


Seclusion Stories

by illyrilex



Category: King of Fighters
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, COVID-19, Con Artists, Drabble, Family Drama, Gen, Grocery Shopping, King's aunt and uncle suck, Married Life, Quarantine, Ryo is kind of a dick, Self-Isolation, Sibling fuckery, Slice of Life, Stir craziness, Target, Vanessa totally still thinks about what happened in Red, WAP, edibles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 21,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyrilex/pseuds/illyrilex
Summary: Various tales about what the fighters are up to during lockdown. Continuously updated.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 13





	1. Netflix & Nagging

**Author's Note:**

> Hi.
> 
> I'm stir crazy in quarantine and somehow got inspired by a (dumb) conversation with a relative and a tweet that was posted to tumblr.
> 
> Note: this was originally just a one-shot, but I had a few other ideas in regards to what folks might be up to during this hellish quarantine. I don't know how many installments/chapters there will be yet, but this will be updated accordingly. Extra special thanks to David Tai for helping with the main title. Go read his stuff.
> 
> Onward~

The bartender and fighter called King was alone in her apartment, laying upside down on her sofa and staring blankly at the television as Netflix autoplayed the next episode of a documentary series she had started hours earlier but couldn’t pay attention to not because of her general restlessness, but because her binge watch had been interrupted by a FaceTime call from one of the worst human beings she knew.  
  
For some reason, her aunt, Maddy, called her out of nowhere to do nothing but complain about conspiracy theories surrounding the virus that brought the world to a halt. The only reason why King hadn’t hung up yet was because she was hoping to see her brother, who had his phone confiscated for not cleaning his room.  
  
“Cécile,” Maddy snapped. “Have you heard anything I’ve said?”  
“Uh-huh,” King mumbled as she continued to look at the television.  
“They’re saying this virus was created in a lab.”  
“Sure.”  
“Did you know there were several scientists who were arrested a few days ago?”  
“Nope.”  
“Est-ce que tu t'en soucis?! Ton frère —”  
“Est compromis,” King interrupted. “What the hell do conspiracy theories have to do with that?”  
“All I’m saying is that this thing is a big deal, and you need to pay more attention!”  
“I haven’t seen Jean in a month and my bar is closed indefinitely. I’m paying attention!”  
  
With that, King swung her legs over to the side of the couch so she could bring herself upright before she ended up getting a head rush. She positioned the phone against a lamp and crossed her arms over her chest as her uncle, Gary, peered around his wife’s shoulder.  
  
“How are you going to stay in business, anyway?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.  
“Prostitution,” King answered without missing a beat. “Sally and Elizabeth have brought in _so_ much money.”  
“Cécile!” Maddy hissed.  
“What?” King asked. “People like twins.”  
  
The expression of horror on her aunt and uncle’s faces was one for the books. King flashed a cheeky grin… and then sighed.  
  
“Not that you actually care,” she started, “but we’ve started delivering liters of our house specials to paying customers. Every order comes with a complimentary roll of toilet paper. It’s not doing too badly, but the toilet paper might be problematic in the future.”  
  
Maddy gave King a disapproving look.  
  
“Let me guess,” King replied, “you think I’m taking advantage of people by selling alcohol at a time like this.”  
“You could be using that alcohol to make hand sanitizer.”  
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” King said while rolling her eyes at the stupidity of her aunt’s statement. She braced herself for more dumb comments and outright contempt.  
  
“Did you know that you could use vodka to make hand sanitizer?” Gary asked, seemingly unaware of his wife’s statement.  
“You should also be taking that toilet paper for yourself,” Maddy chimed in.  
“You’re the worst,” King stated flatly.  
“And you’re being idiotic! Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?! The government has these scientists working on new strains and putting them out there every day,” Aunt Maddy declared. “And more and more young people are getting it. If _you_ catch it you’re going to die alone, in a hospital — all because you think you’re invincible! Think about Jean!”  
  
King glared at her aunt, who was frowning at her.

“We’re just trying to look out for you,” Gary asserted before either woman could say anything.  
“Fuck you,” King told the couple before picking up her device and abruptly ending the call.  
  
Fuming, she sat for a moment, lips pressed in a thin line as she tried to put her aunt’s words out of her head — not because of how infuriating they were, but because they legitimately stung a little. She was well aware that she wasn’t invincible, which, at times, took her down some very dark paths. Nevertheless, she couldn’t — _wouldn’t_ — think like that. She decided she would try to reach Jean later, but for the time being she was going to rewind her documentary and try not to let her own cynicism get to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's your look at what King is up to during this pandemic bullshit. Just some quick translations for you:
> 
> * "Est-ce que tu t'en soucis?! Ton frère —" = Do you even care?! Your brother —  
> * "Est compromis" = is compromised, referring to Jean's increased chances of catching disease because of his general health issues.  
> * King is probably watching Tiger King. Idk. There are lots of documentaries on Netflix.  
> * In case you've missed this, Sally and Elizabeth are the twin bartenders who work for King. I promise she's not really pimping them out.
> 
> Okay, that's it. I'm tired. Thanks to everyone in Discord (you know who you are) for, like, keeping me motivated to publish these things. Remember, folks: social distancing! And wash your hands!


	2. The Bovine Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I've been sitting on this idea for far too long. This takes place at around the same time as the previous chapter, Netflix & Nagging, and was inspired by a drawing but the user HEARTILLIES on Twitter. Anyway, hope you all enjoy~

Mai Shiranui was becoming restless.

A month in quarantine had resulted in her not being able to go anywhere, which, at first, wasn't so bad, as it meant more time alone with Andy. Now that he couldn't run off to train, train, train, the two had been able to spend their days doing fun things: watching movies, cooking meals together (though, to be honest, it was Mai doing most of the cooking while Andy floundered about the kitchen, completely clueless), and having lots of mind-blowing sex.

Mai's dreams of domestic bliss with her lover had _finally_ come true...!

It just sucked that it took a killer respiratory virus for it to happen.

That was the only downside, really: the global pandemic. As a result of the highly contagious illness, date night was dead: restaurants, bars, and movie theaters were all closed. Going to the store was actually really stressful because of a new, almost dystopian landscape, and hanging out with friends was a no-go as well because no one wanted to risk getting sick (or getting someone else sick). It was understandable of course — but still a huge bummer.

And, so, Mai sat at the small computer desk in the corner of the living room, mindlessly scrolling through social media sites while Spotify played Venom's _Over My Dead Body_ as loud as the speakers would go without blowing out.

"Hey, Mai?"

Andy's voice called from the next room, just barely audible over the sound of the music.

"Yeah, babe?" Mai answered while turning the volume down a few notches.  
"Do you think you can go to Amazon and order some batteries?"  
"Sure~!"  
"And maybe some toothpaste, too, since neither of us are planning on going to the store this week?"  
"You got it," Mai responded as she navigated to the popular website.  
"Thanks!"

It only took a few clicks before the shopping cart held the requested items, but Mai decided against going straight to checkout in favour of browsing for something cool to buy — something that wasn't so boring like batteries and toothpaste. She decided to look for some new pajamas, as it didn't look like she'd be going anywhere any time soon, and the expectation to _look_ the part of international sex symbol was nonexistent in her own home, anyway. After several minutes of scrolling, Mai frowned; nothing looked appealing… or her size was sold out. She was about to give up altogether when something caught her eye: a pajama set that came with matching underwear and slippers and was absolutely perfect! Even better was that it was actually available in her size!

A wide smile spread across Mai's lips as she added it to her Shopping Cart.

###

"Andy~?"

Andy Bogard closed the dishwasher before turning toward the sound of his lover's voice, which issued from the bedroom on the other side of the apartment. The sultry cadence of Mai's tone told him everything he needed to know about why she was beckoning in the first place, though he wasn't _entirely_ sure if he had it in him to perform at that very moment (his stomach had bothered him earlier in the day). Nevertheless, he declared that was coming right over before leaving the kitchen. He started toward the bedroom but stopped when Mai suddenly ordered him to sit down on the couch.

"I need you to close your eyes, baby," Mai called seductively. "Close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you to. Can you do that?"  
"Sure, Mai," Andy chuckled as he took a seat, "I can do that."

It occurred to Andy that, maybe, he should get ready for the coming workout. He removed his shirt, and then briefly stood so he could remove his sweatpants as well. He sat back down, in nothing but his boxer briefs, and waited for the door to open, suddenly excited by the prospect of whatever it was that Mai had planned.

"Are you ready?" came the seductive, disembodied voice.  
"Yes..."

Andy heard the sound of Mai's soft footsteps on the carpeted floor, and then the bedroom door as it was pulled open. There was complete silence; not even the sound of Mai's breathing could be heard. It was a good minute before she finally said, in what had to have been her most provocative tone, "Open them."

The sight that greeted Andy… created a limp dick immediately.

The Alluring Ninja Girl leaned her back against the door frame in a very dramatic fashion, clad in… a full-body… zip-up… cow onesie. Her beautiful brown hair was obscured by a fleece hood that had small horns and little floppy ears on either side of it, and her feet were adorned with matching cow slippers that had soulless black, button eyes on them. She slowly turned her head and flashed a charming smile, followed by a wink.

"Like what you see?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't... I don't know what else to say. I mean... that's it. However, Mai does have some bigger, possibly better things planned for isolation down the line... we'll just have to see where this pandemic takes her...
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading, and for reviewing if you so choose!
> 
> Cheers~!


	3. Important Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to preface this by saying that, contrary to popular belief, I do not hate Ryo Sakazaki. I find him dull, and, as such, a little difficult to write. With that being said, I have to give an extra special thanks to David Tai for helping me nail down a believable dynamic here, and, also, for providing some conversation fuel. Special thanks goes out to RobertCop3 as well, for talking me through some of my lamentations about personality traits.
> 
> Go read their stuff. But read this, first, since you're already right here.
> 
> Also, before we get started, know that King and Ryo have not chatted at length since Aftershocks. There's been a "What's up?" text here or a "Happy Birthday" text there, but they have yet to have any major convos or breakthroughs regarding his stance on the assault and her sex life.
> 
> Onward~

It always started the same way: a dull discomfort in Yuri Sakazaki's shoulder that gradually spread into her neck, which then led to her feeling like her head was trapped in a vise, ready to snap off. Finally, it would hit her temples, and lights and sounds and existence became sources of debilitating pain, which was _very_ scary considering her massive, almost inhuman tolerance to any other aches.

Medication, both over the counter and prescription, couldn't make a dent; cold showers, quiet spaces… none of that worked. Meditation was definitely a no-go, and even that highly-rated, weird Borg-looking device Robert bought her couldn't quell the sensations that — at times — made her want to _die_.

But, then, as a last resort, her doctor decided that, maybe, a natural approach might have been the way to go. And it _worked_. Unfortunately, there were side-effects… but that was a small price to pay for relief.

So, on day six-million of the stupid quarantine, Yuri found herself vegging out on the couch, sipping on a Coke and waiting for the gummies she had taken to kick in. Television on mute, she squinted at the screen while debating whether or not she should try to schlep upstairs to her room.

"What's on TV?"

Enter Ryo, who was fresh out of the shower, rubbing at his hair with a small towel. He sat down on the other end of the couch and made a face at the silent screen.

"Some horror movie about nuns, I dunno," Yuri answered while closing her eyes.  
"Nuns? You mean it's about religion?"  
"It's nuns, brother. Literal nuns."  
"Ah."

The two were quiet for just a moment before Ryo turned and said, "I wanna ask you something."

Yuri opened her eyes with a grimace. She was pretty sure she knew what her brother was about to bring up, but, despite the pain in her head she decided that, instead of waiting forty years for him to get to the point she would kick things into high gear before the gummies started hitting her — which would (hopefully) be very soon.

"Is this about Céccy?" she asked, point blank.  
"Uh, yeah," Ryo answered.

Yuri sighed. The situation between King and Ryo wasn't ideal: It was her friend versus her brother… because her brother, despite being her brother, was an insensitive butthead about things that he just couldn't seem to grasp.

"This is a _terrible_ time for this conversation," Yuri grumbled. She set her drink on the side table so she could put pressure on her temples, which were starting to throb just a tiny bit less, but still felt like they were going to explode.

"I'll make it quick," Ryo told her.  
"No, _I'll_ make it quick," Yuri retorted, a little miffed that her kin would try to hold a serious conversation with her while she had a migraine. She turned to Ryo, took a deep breath, and frowned.

"You're a dinosaur."  
"A what?"  
"A dinosaur. But not even a cool dinosaur like a T-Rex... or a velociraptor… or even a brontosaurus. You're a triceratops."  
"Aren't they the ones with the horned skulls?"  
"The _thick_ horned skulls."  
"What are you — what does that have to do with anything?"

Yuri crossed her arms over her chest and gave Ryo a pointed look.

"You think I should apologize to her," he commented.  
"Bingo."  
"But I didn't do anything wrong."  
"Neither did she."  
"But —"  
"'But' _nothing_ , Ryo! You're being too darn judgy! You're acting like she's… like she's some kind of… of _slut_ , but she's the same Céccy we've always known —"  
"Is she really, though?"  
"She's _the same Céccy we've always known_ and it's not your place to judge her over something she didn't have control over…!"  
"But what about the things she _did_ have control over?"  
"That's her business, and you should consider yourself lucky that she was even comfortable enough to tell you that stuff in the first place."

Ryo rubbed at his stubble, apparently very thoughtful.

"What about Vanessa?" He asked after a brief silence.  
"What about her?"  
"Is it true? That her and…? Or was King saying that to get a rise out of me?"

Yuri felt her cheeks flush as she suddenly imagined King and Vanessa… _together_. Of course, King never said anything other than that she had, in fact, slept with the Amazonian woman because she wasn't one to just spill details about that sort of thing. Not that Yuri wanted to know anyway because that would be kinda weird. Talking about sex stuff with _Mai_ was already weird enough at times, but, for some reason, Yuri found King _very_ intimidating when it came to that subject. Whereas Mai was totally open to gabbing about any and everything under the sun, King just… wasn't. And, yet, she was probably — no, definitely — the most… _experienced_ … of the three.

"Okay, that answers that," Ryo said, his own face a little red.  
"Yeah…"

Yuri drew the word out as she fixed her eyes back on the television. She didn't even know what was happening on the screen; just… nuns. There were nuns and stuff? What was she even thinking about again? Oh, yeah — Ryo was trying to talk to her about Céccy. Céccy, who was very pretty, but very intimidating. But, wait. Pretty? Or handsome? Because the first time Yuri saw her she thought she was a very handsome man that was actually a pretty man. Yeah. That was it.

"So that's four."

Ryo's remark brought Yuri out of her thoughts. She quirked a brow, puzzled.

"Four what?"  
"Well. King…"  
"King what?"  
"Her, uhhhh… previous… partners. ...Right?"

It took a second for the words to even register to Yuri, as she had started to zone out at the quiet television. She had to stop and think before nodding.

"Two women —" Yuri held up her index and middle fingers on her right hand — "and then two men. Well, one man. But two. But one."  
"Aw, shit," Ryo groaned. "Yuri, how much —?"  
"Technically it's two," Yuri went on as she held up her index and middle fingers on her left hand. "So, two… and two. That's four."  
"I just said that."

Yuri considered her fingers very carefully.

"How do you think that works?" She wondered out loud.  
"How… what works?"

With a frown Yuri jammed both sets of fingers together.

"You've _gotta_ be fucking kidding," Ryo blurted, his face slightly redder than it had been previously.  
"I bet the church frowns on this sorta thing," Yuri went on. "Even when it's handsome women."  
"What. Are you _talking_ about?"  
"Do you think I should just ask her?"  
"Ask _who_... _what_ ," came Ryo's baffled reply.  
"Céccy! Should I ask Céccy how that works? Do you think she'd think I'm a weird sex pervert?"

Ryo stared at his sister, wide-eyed, seemingly on the verge of having a conniption fit.

"You wanna know, too, right?" Yuri guessed.  
"I — WHAT?!"  
"Let's _both_ ask her!"

With that, Yuri unstuck her fingers, ran a hand through her hair, and grabbed her phone from its place beside her soda.

"Yuri, I don't think that's a good — _Yuri_!"

The younger Sakazaki nimbly stood up, evading her brother's clumsy attempt to snatch the phone out of her hand. She pulled up King's contact information on her device, and stopped.

"Should I text? Or should I call? Because if I text her I might not be able to really explain what I mean? And, like… I shouldn't be staring at a small screen anyway, right? But if I _call_ her I can actually talk to her and explain a little bit better. What do you think?" Yuri turned to Ryo, who had jumped to his own feet.

"Neither," he exclaimed.  
"You know what? You're right!" Yuri responded as the perfect idea dawned on her.  
"I am…?"  
"Totally!"

Yuri nodded vigorously, and, even though she knew she was moving quickly, everything was sluggish and she felt like she was underwater. But that didn't matter because Ryo actually did something smart for a change. Grateful for his help, she flashed him a lazy grin and ran her free hand through her hair again.

"I'll _FaceTime_ her!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.
> 
> * Yuri is watching The Nun  
> * In case it's not obvious for whatever reason, Céccy = Céc = Cécile = King  
> * King and Vanessa had a Thing™ in Red, while Vanessa's marriage was having major issues (what major issues? Hmm...) Prior to their, uhh... "romp," Ryo and Robert spot them at the Pao Pao Café together.  
> * Yuri is totally bi-curious, which has been alluded to many times before.  
> * I wrote a short about Yuri's first encounter with King (that never saw the light of day) in which she notes that the bouncer is very handsome, but not in a traditional sense, and decides that "pretty" is a better descriptor  
> * Ryo is (obviously) still grappling with his views in regards to love and sexy times which are very black and white.
> 
> I don't think there's anything else that really needs to be noted. If you've been going here long enough then you have background, and if you're new, any and everything you need to know is pretty straightforward, I think.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for stopping by! Hopefully you enjoyed! As for Yuri, do you think she really made the call? Or did she lose her nerve and move on to something else? Find out next time! Maybe! We'll just have to see where things go...
> 
> Cheers~!


	4. Twitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! This is a direct follow-up to last chapter, which, honestly? I didn't think I'd do. Anyway, this is a mess. Hopefully it's a beautiful mess, but, honestly? Probably not. It's the longest yet, and takes place before Karma Police and Good Cop, Bad Cop (it's actually mentioned in KP).
> 
> Once again I have to give major thanks to David Tai, who has been helping me see things from other perspectives and has just generally been there during this particular ride, so, like, thank you!
> 
> Let's do this~

King sat at her dining room table and stared at the laptop screen in front of her, brow quirked, a feeling of dread slowly washing over her as she read the words in her timeline over and over again:  
  
**Yuri S.** @KyokugenQT12 · 8m  
King is so handsome I almost fall in love with her  
  
The nonsensical thought already had hundreds of replies from Yuri’s numerous followers, with some being much more wholesome than others. As King scrolled through a few of them she became intensely thankful that she wasn’t tagged in the tweet, otherwise her notifications would have been flooded with madness ( _and_ her cover would have been blown, as staying anonymous on social media while being somewhat well-known the world over was _extremely_ difficult). King was going to have to call Yuri and demand that she delete the thing ASAP before some independent sports blogger got wind of it and took it as some kind of confirmation of a romantic relationship that didn’t exist in the first place.  
  
With a fierce scowl, King took a huge sip of wine and reached for the phone that was next to her but stopped dead when _El Scorcho_ started blaring from it. She let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding as she quickly accepted the FaceTime call. She opened her mouth to ask Yuri what the hell she was playing at, but stopped when she saw her face, which was pale and drawn, which could only mean —   
  
“Céccy,” she said tiredly, before King could utter a sound, “I _really_ need to ask you something that’s super important, okay?”  
  
King grimaced, since Yuri’s tweet was clearly the product of her being stoned out of her mind. And now she wanted to ask a question, which meant she was probably about to bring up something really strange, like that motorcycle story or the texture of Robert’s hair, or —  
  
“KING!”  
  
Ryo Sakazaki’s voice rang out from somewhere behind Yuri, who appeared to be walking into the kitchen.  
  
“King! Just hang it up! HANG UP!”  
“ _Ignore_ him, Céccy, he’s being a butt,” Yuri stated calmly. She set her phone down (but must have propped it up against something) before leaning on the counter and running a hand through her hair, which had grown out a good bit since her last haircut, which was sometime before salons had been ordered to close down a few months prior.  
  
“King! I mean it, don’t —!”  
  
Ryo popped up behind Yuri, but instantly disappeared from the frame, evidently the victim of his sister’s foot, or fist, or maybe even her ass.   
  
“Céccy —” Yuri cleared her throat while she situated herself against the counter — “Seriously, I have a serious question for you.”  
“And I’ll answer it for you, I promise,” King answered, a little mystified. “But would you kindly _please_ go to Twitter and delete your last tweet?”  
“I did a tweet?”  
“Uh, yes. You did.”  
“What was it about?”  
“You… said I was handsome…”  
“Oh! Yeah, and that it kinda makes me wanna fall in love with you! Haha, yeah! I totally said that!”  
“Okay, well, can you totally _un_ say it? Right now?”  
“But for real, Céccy, how’d you get so pretty?”  
  
King raised her eyebrows while she placed her phone against a vase in the center of the table. She furrowed her brow while reaching for her drink.  
  
“I… genetics?”  
“Seriously, Céccy,” Yuri went on. “When I first saw you I thought you were a guy, right? And you were totally the sort of guy I’d want to take me on a date and stuff, but you were too _pretty_! Too darn pretty! And I don’t think the church would approve anyway, right?”  
“Uh, _what_?”  
“Wasn’t your family Catholic?”  
“Wh-why does that matter?”  
“Because, like… the church. The church wouldn’t want you to take me on a date.”  
“ _I_ wouldn’t want to take you on a date!”  
“You should form your own church, Céc. But, like, make it okay for the nuns to date each other.”  
“I’d rather not form a church, thanks,” King replied. “Now… Twitter?”  
  
Yuri squinted at the screen, befuddled, but then shook her head.  
  
“Oh! Right! Yeah, I’ll delete that right now, just gimme a se —”  
“KING!”  
  
At that _exact_ moment, a disheveled Ryo reappeared on the screen. He tried to make a grab for the phone, but Yuri, who didn’t even seem to be aware of the movement, plucked the device and started walking out of the kitchen.  
  
“King!” Ryo called loudly. “King, you _need_ to listen to me! Just hang up, do you hear me?! I mean it!”  
  
King set her wine down and pressed her lips together in a very thin line. She had Yuri exactly where she wanted her, damn it! She was about to delete the tweet, but now Ryo’s meddling was probably going to reset her entire train of thought, and the cursed sentence was going to stay up even longer than it had to! And, even worse was the _way_ Ryo was talking to her — _demanding_ her to follow his instructions as if she wasn’t already a trained expert in the art of Yuri’s stoner thoughts! Annoyed, King clenched her fists and looked away from the display, which was shaking thanks to Yuri’s movement.  
  
“ _Damn it_ , Sakazaki,” she groaned. “One: Do not presume to tell me what to do! Two: This is _our_ conversation — not yours. And while I _do_ appreciate the concern, I can handle whatever weird shit she throws at m —”  
“I’m not throwing anything,” Yuri interjected lazily. “Except maybe these hands if you don’t stop following me, brother!”  
“Okay, you know what?! Fine,” came Ryo’s exasperated voice. King glimpsed him behind Yuri, throwing his hands up and rolling his eyes.  
  
“Go ahead. You go ahead and _enjoy_ the ‘weird shit’ she’s about to throw at you, King!”  
“I will,” King ardently retorted. “I’ll make sure to enjoy it very lou —”  
  
“Wait,” Yuri suddenly spoke up, her voice almost _bizarrely_ mellow. She stopped walking at what appeared to be the middle of the stairwell, and scratched her head while squinting down at King, her expression thoughtful.  
  
“Why wouldn’t you wanna take me out on a date?” she asked.  
  
King let out a tortured grunt as she placed her head down on the table. She could only _imagine_ the field day people on the internet were having over Yuri’s bizarre statement. It was entirely possible that it was all over reddit; there was probably a very long thread filled with conspiracies about a secret relationship between the pair that was frowned upon by the entire Kyokugen school, and was being covered up by a staged romance with Robert. It was only a matter of time before ESPN actually sent someone out to investigate the “real” meaning behind it all.  
  
“You’re just… you’re like my sister! And, even if you weren’t, you’re not my type…! Now plea —”  
“What _is_ your type?”  
“Yuri…!”  
  
King drew the name out and sighed as a huge tension headache started to set in. She lifted her head from the table, reached for her drink, and took a huge gulp of it, all the while glaring at the tiny screen in front of her.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Yuri mumbled. “Lemme go to my room, and then when I’m there I’ll —”  
“Hey, Yuri!”  
  
Ryo abruptly shouted from somewhere off-screen, his tone derisive.  
  
“Didn’t you have something you wanted to _ask_ dear _Céccy_ ?”  
“C’est quoi _putai_ —?!”  
“Ohhhh, yeaaaaahhhhh —” Yuri smacked her forehead — “Thanks for reminding me, bro!”  
  
Yuri then turned around and walked back down the stairs, through the living room, and into the kitchen, where she propped the phone up on the counter once more. She settled on her elbows and ran a hand through her hair while Ryo sauntered up next to her, crossed his arms, and offered a smile that was anything but sincere.  
  
“My baby sister has a _très_ _important_ question for you.”  
“What? Wait,” Yuri said. “It’s your question, too.”  
“What?! No the hell it’s not,” Ryo protested, his face all at once a somewhat horrifying shade of pink.  
“I may be really messed up but you know that I know that you wanna know how it works just as much as I do!”  
“That’s not — I mean…! Don’t bring me into this!”  
“You brought _yourself_ into it, brother!”  
  
King ran her hands through her hair while she watched the siblings bicker. At one point Ryo tried to walk away but, with surprising speed, Yuri snatched him by his shirt, hopped on his back, and put him in a rear chokehold, which forced him to stay where he was.  
  
None of that mattered though, because the tweet was still continuing to garner attention that King didn’t want. She groaned again, very loudly, as her temper started to rise.  
  
“Putain qu’est-ce que tu veux savoir déjà…?!”  
“Huh? I don’t understand your fancy French words,” Yuri declared with a slight chuckle.  
“Just ask me the goddamn question already!” King entreated.  
  
There was a quick pause in which Ryo made a low gurgling noise and tapped Yuri’s arm, but he was completely ignored.  
  
“Okay,” Yuri sang in a very slow, dreamy cadence. “Céccy…”  
“ _Yes_?!”  
“What Ryo and I _both_ wanna know —”  
“I… _don’t_ —!”  
“Yeah you do, don’t play.”  
  
Ryo grunted, and King wasn’t sure if his face was red because of the chokehold or because of whatever the hell Yuri had in mind. She rolled her eyes before grabbing her beverage once more, ready to give in to her growing anger. She started to take a massive gulp of the red liquid just as Yuri turned to her with an _extremely_ serious expression on her face.  
  
“Céccy,” she articulated slackly. “Céccy, how does scissoring work…?”  
  
King nearly choked to death on her wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go:
> 
> * Yuri's bizarre tweet is an actual line in 98 UM OL. I don't... I don't know, man.  
> * King's "Would you kindly" is a reference to BioShock! Because I could!  
> * Catholicism is very prevalent in France, so, yeah, King's family was Catholic. Also, remember, Yuri was/is watching The Nun.  
> * C'est quoi putai —?! is basically King trying to say "What the fuck"  
> * très important = very important (clearly, right?)  
> * Putain qu'est-ce que tu veux savoir déjà = What the fuck do you want to know already  
> * Obviously King is pretty cross from the idea of that tweet being taken the wrong way by the masses. She's not acting hateful toward Ryo for no reason — she's literally just frustrated. Also, he's kind of a dick in general (boo, hiss, illy must hate him!) (FFS I do not!)
> 
> Anyway, that's it for this one! So... good mess or bad mess? Or just mess? And... can these three recover from such an awkward exchange in the future? I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out eventually...
> 
> Cheers~!


	5. Dry Spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! So, now we're getting a look at everyone's favourite secret agent, super mom, and all-around MILF is up to. Vanessa's husband and kid have not been given canonical names; I gave the chap a name once in Red, and it's mentioned here as well, and will be retconned if ever needed.
> 
> Also of note is that we are past Karma Police and Good Cop, Bad Cop in the timeline, so yay for that.
> 
> Onward~

"Seth, I am losing my goddamn _mind_ in this house…!"

Vanessa's wavy red hair fell in front of her eyes as she rubbed her temples, frustrated. She loved her family more than anything, but she hadn't been out on a mission since before the quarantine started, and it was driving her up the walls. Her husband was lucky — he could work from home, in the comfort of his own office. Hell, he didn't even wear pants on most days! But Vanessa's jobs were more complicated: raising a child was a full-time deal in and of itself… and her side gig, though filled with danger, was what helped to keep her sane.

However, now that she was unable — and maybe even unwilling — to go into the field because of the virus, she had to find other ways to make time for herself, and keep from clawing her way out of her skin. Hitting the punching bag in the garage just wasn't enough, and going to the store sans child definitely didn't count, so she had to find other avenues of keeping her mind sound.

Like complaining to her partner and fellow agent, Seth.

The two had set up something of a bi-weekly meeting schedule via Zoom that usually took place during work hours for Vanessa's husband. Every now and then Mary or Ramon would join in as well, each with very little to report: Ramon was still doing house shows (but at empty arenas), and Mary, although seemingly in the throes of some sort of existential crisis, was still fighting the good fight as an officer of the law. It was all…

...perfectly…

...mundane.

"Ya gotta just… keep on going, 'Nes," Seth offered with a frown.  
"You say that every time."  
"Because it's the same every time."  
"That's the problem," Vanessa lamented. "It's the same. Every. Damn. Time! I don't know what to do here. I'm getting really edgy —"  
"'Getting?'"  
" — and I think Dave is starting to notice."  
"You mean you don't think he noticed before?"  
"Of course he noticed. He notices _everything_ now."  
"Why don't you just tell him?" Seth asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.  
"You mean come clean?"

The burly man didn't say anything as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Seth," Vanessa said candidly. "The last time it came up I nearly got a divorce. Everything was on the line, and I _still_ couldn't bring myself to tell him all of the details about what we — what _I_ — do. Telling him I was intimate with someone else during our week off was easier than even _thinking_ about a conversation about the job. If I were to tell him everything now…"

Vanessa sighed. She took a lock of faded red hair between her fingers and looked at it idly. She _really_ needed to touch up her dye-job…

"You ever gonna tell me who it was?"

Seth's question brought Vanessa's attention back to the bright screen.

"Who what was?"  
"Who you hooked up with."

Vanessa made a face as she thought back to that time. It was already so long ago… Nevertheless, she had no intention of telling Seth that the person she slept with was none other than the kickboxing bartender called King. Not only was it probably a good idea to keep it under wraps for King's sake, but, knowing Seth, he'd give her shit about being some sort of cougar for the rest of her life.

"That is not your business, sir," Vanessa coolly responded, though she couldn't help it as a slight blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks as she recalled what took place on that particular afternoon... in the guest room that was just down the hall.

"Mm-hm."  
"Stop that," Vanessa told her confidant sharply.  
"You know your face is almost as red as your hair, right?"  
"Oh, hush."  
"I'm just teasing you, girl."  
"Go tease your wife," Vanessa retorted with a quick glance at the clock. "I have to go cook."  
"What's for dinner?"  
"It's Spaghetti Wednesday."  
"Ahhh, right."

The pair fell silent then, with Vanessa stretching her arms over her head and Seth adjusting his chair from his office across town.

"You'll be okay, 'Nes," he assured while reaching for his mouse. "Just gotta keep hangin' in there."  
"I'm working on it," Vanessa sighed. "Talk later?"  
"Yeah. Text me if you need me."  
"Thanks…"

The video chat ended, leaving Vanessa alone in silence. She knew she needed to get back downstairs not only so she could start dinner, but so her husband and kiddo wouldn't wonder why she was gone for so long (because they _always_ wondered — especially now). She pushed her hair out of her face once more, closed the laptop, and rose from her place on the bed. She left the comfort of the master bedroom and started down the hall, but not before her dark eyes momentarily flitted to the closed guest room door.

"Shit…!"

Vanessa shook her head and forcibly replaced her memories of that afternoon (dear _God_ , King's moan…!) with thoughts about how much garlic bread she was going to put in the oven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay!
> 
> * So, yeah, Vanessa and King hooked up (read Red if you're new here) while Vanessa's marriage was on the rocks. The reason why Van and her man were having problems is never explicitly stated, but she makes numerous comments about honesty and trust. So... hmmmmmm....  
> * Vanessa's hair is not naturally that red. No one's hair is naturally as red as it is, viddy games be damned.  
> * In Red it's stated that King dislikes how she sounds during certain "activities" because she finds it embarrassing. Obviously, Vanessa does not think the same way. At all.
> 
> Welp, that's it here! Remember to wear your masks, folks! Cheers~!


	6. Brainchild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there! Another tale from quarantine, this one probably being more set up that anything else, and, to a lesser extent, a chance to write more Mai/Yuri bestie goodness! Special thanks to David Tai for all his help as of late!
> 
> Enjoy~

Mai sat on the living room floor clad in her cow onesie, with her sewing materials strewn about in front of her while a Metallica playlist provided some much-needed background noise for her.  
  
“I’m starting a YouTube channel!” she enthusiastically declared into her phone. She stuck her feet out in front of her so she could adjust her cow slippers and waited for a response. It was only a brief second before Yuri spoke up.  
  
“You’re doing… a what?”  
“A YouTube channel,” Mai repeated. “You know… on YouTube?”  
“Well, duh, Mai! But what’re you gonna do on it?”  
  
Mai put the call on speaker and placed the gadget down on the floor beside her so she could use her hands freely.  
  
“A lot of different things,” she answered while picking up and inspecting a swatch of floral printed, black fabric.  
  
“I was thinking we could do all kinds of stuff, like reaction videos, or diaries, or —”  
“Wait,” Yuri interrupted. “Who’s ‘we?’”  
“Well, I thought that you could come on and be in some of them with me. And Mary, and Kingy, too!”  
“What about Andy?”  
“He’s going to be my video editor!”  
  
Mai beamed as she placed the black fabric down and picked up a plain indigo sample. She held it into the light and pursed her lips as she squinted at it.  
  
“Wait, what? No way,” Yuri replied, her voice full of awe.  
“Yeah! He’s actually really good at that stuff,” Mai stated.  
“So he’s okay with you doing this?”  
“Yeah. He says that it’ll be a really good outlet for me. He’ll be in some of my videos, too.”  
“ _Andy_ is?”  
“Yeah,” Mai grinned. “But he won’t know it right away.”  
“What does _that_ mean?”  
  
Mai threw her head back and laughed as she visualized what was probably her best idea once more.  
  
“I’m going to set up a camera in the living room and record him watching horror movies.” 

Her statement was met by an enthused giggle from Yuri.  
  
“Will he be okay with _that_ ?”  
“I dunno,” Mai said thoughtfully. “I guess we’ll find out~”  
  
Both women started laughing as they imagined how Andy Bogard would react to being caught on camera screaming and flailing.  
  
“Okay, I’ll totally be on your channel with you,” Yuri affirmed.  
“That’s the spirit!” Mai cheered. She stopped and made a face. “Just gotta get Kingy in on it…”  
“But she hates doing things like that.”  
“Which is kinda funny since she _is_ something of a public figure, whether she likes it or not…”  
“Maybe I can load her up on edibles before you ask her,” Yuri suggested.  
“Girl, do you have a death wish?” Mai inquired with a laugh. “Honestly I’m surprised she didn’t kill you after that last conversation you told me about.”  
  
Yuri let out a nervous laugh.  
  
“Don’t jinx it, Mai,” she said pointedly. “I haven’t seen her in person since before the lockdown. I got her to agree to meet up for sparring soon, so she’ll probably go for the throat or the stomach.”  
“Pffft. She’ll get over it.”  
“I asked her about —” Yuri lowered her voice — “about _scissoring_ ! That’s _really_ personal...”  
“Please,” Mai laughed. “There’s no shame in being curious, girl, and she’s probably the best person to ask, anyway! We’re all friends here — she won’t hold it against you!”  
  
A pause.  
  
“For long.”  
  
A sort of pained noise issued from the speaker and Mai knew she should probably shift the conversation back to her brainchild.  
  
“Let’s get back to this YouTube thing…”  
  
  


###  
  
  


“Hi guys! Welcome to my new channel! If, for some reason, you don’t know my beautiful face, I am Mai Shiranui, Japan’s number one fighter and the heiress of the Shiranui Clan! You’re probably here for my boobs… and that’s okay because they _are_ pretty great! But! They’re only for my Andy~! Anyway! I’ll be doing all sorts of cool things here, so please stay tuned for some interesting projects! I know there’s nothing much yet, but click Like and Subscribe so you can keep up with me, and follow me on Twitter at The Alluring Ninja Girl! I think that’s it for today, so bye for now!”  
  
And, with that, Mai Shiranui’s quarantine pet project was born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you might have guessed, this is going to be the start of something beautiful. Hopefully a little something to offset my usual heavy angst or whatever.
> 
> Anyway, remember to wear your mask! Cheers!


	7. 3000

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guyyyyyssssuuuuhhhh~! This is something that I should have done sooner, what with Decimation being a Thing™ but I just... didn't. Of course, opportunity came knocking, so I took it a ran with it. Now. This has massive, massive, MASSIVE spoilers for Avengers: Endgame, so if you haven't seen it but want to, then skip this chapter until you have. If you have seen it or don't give a damn about being spoiled, then proceed, my dude!
> 
> Once again, special thanks to David Tai for putting up with me!
> 
> Onward~

Being undead during a global pandemic afforded Vice the freedoms that normal humans had lost. She could walk around without the worry of catching the virus… and she did. She often went out (without a mask, of course, since she wasn't exactly alive), head held high, and simply watched the wretched souls of the city scramble to buy disinfectant while practicing social distancing. They were all so… _pathetic_. Observing them for too long made her sick — so sick, that, if she could throw up, she would.

It was because of that fact that she elected to spend an afternoon doing one of her favourite things: encroaching on Yagami's territory. She — along with Mature — had decided to "drop in," so to speak: to pay Yagami a visit without the pretense of the Orochi Seal or Riot of the Blood or temporal distortions or whatever the hell else was going on in the realm of the supernatural, and just… hang out. However, what was supposed to be a quick visit turned into a much more prolonged stay — much to Yagami's chagrin. At least, that's what he wanted them to think. Vice and Mature knew that, deep down? He actually sort of enjoyed their company… especially now.

...Even if they _did_ do things like usurp his television and subscribe him to streaming services he had absolutely no use for.

And that was how Vice found herself watching _Avengers: Endgame_ on Disney+ for what must have been the eighth time in a three week period... and sobbing madly. If her lacrimal ducts were still functional they would have been producing an overabundance of tears because of what was playing out.

"We did it, sir, we did it…!"

Vice's favourite, with a bloody nose and eyes swollen. His shaky, "I'm sorry," elicited a very deep, pseudo breath from her, and despite being unable to produce snot, she was somehow still able to sniffle. She took a few moments to readjust her position so she could keep watching.

"Friday?"  
"Life functions critical."

At that, Vice let out a very loud, anguished wail that tapered off into something of a choking warble that got the attention of the other occupants in the apartment.

"Good _God_ , woman!"

A somewhat muffled yell from behind the closed bedroom door.

"Ugh! _Every_ time!"

An annoyed exclamation from the nearby table.

"Fu — fuck y-you guys," Vice stammered. "It's — it's... _sad_!"  
"It's a _movie_ ," came Mature's exasperated retort.

Vice responded with another strangled noise. Sometimes she didn't understand how her own mind worked: She found normal humans repulsive; they were ruled by emotions and it disgusted her. When she watched these sort of movies she _wanted_ to see the heroes fail — to see them lose hope. And, yet, here she was, crying on a sofa the same way those _people_ did, en masse, in the theater all that time ago. If it could be called crying, anyway. And she did it literally every time. Because, in life… she had been just like them (when she wasn't doing things like brainwashing old men, anyway). She had started reading comics at a young age; she became attached to certain characters (she sort of related to the Hulk) early, had waited in long lines at conventions, just like everyone else. Hell, she even got her copy of _Batman: Thrillkiller_ signed by Dan Brereton for crying out loud!

But death?

Death... actually hadn't changed who Vice was at her core:

A huge…

...fucking...

...nerd.

Vice couldn't bring herself to watch the light go out, so she covered her face with her hands (which were hidden in over-sized sleeves) and tried her best to compose herself, even as the narration started. She kept her face hidden even when she felt the seat cushions next to her sink. Mature's slender arm wrapped around her shoulders, but she didn't move.

"I — I know… what you're gonna say," she wailed miserably.  
"Shut up, I have something for you," the other woman told her.  
"I-I'm not… in the mood," Vice sobbed.  
"That's not what I meant."  
"Then just tell me."  
"You have to look at me."

Vice swallowed (a purely reflexive action more than anything else) and slowly uncovered her face. Instead of looking at her companion, her eyes went straight to the screen, and on the Arc Reactor floating in the water.

"PROOF THAT TONY STARK HAS A HEART"

Before Vice could _really_ lose her shit again Mature quickly grabbed her hand and plopped something heavy into it, which actually managed to draw her attention away from _Endgame_. She stared down at the object, which was wrapped in a paper towel (presumably because Yagami didn't have wrapping paper), and frowned.

"What the hell is this?"  
"A present."

Vice glanced at the screen again before looking down at the mystery item she had been given. She peeled the paper towel back slowly, and then…

"Where did you get this?"  
"I made it," Mature replied simply. "Out of one of Yaggy's amps."  
"When?"  
"While you were watching this."

With a smirk, Vice turned the object over and over.

"I don't know if I should be touched or insulted," she mused with a smirk. She continued to scrutinize the replica Arc Reactor in her hand, from the copper wires, to the working LED lights, to the neatly engraved text.

"PROOF THAT VICE IS A NERDY BITCH"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like Vice, I have seen Endgame too many times...
> 
> * As you might have guessed, the title here is based on Tony's line, "I love you 3000." I thought that using that whole thing would be kinda hokey, so I shortened it.  
> * Vice's favourite is Spider-Man. That fact is based on Falcoon's artwork of her at Comic Con, where she has a bag with a Spider-Man button on it.  
> * Vice's most prized possession is a signed book by comic book artist Dan Brereton. Which one it is hasn't been explicitly stated, but he is best known for his work on Batman: Thrillkiller, as well as a few other DC comics.  
> * Mature is a machinist... or someone who likes to tinker with and work on machinery.
> 
> Alright, you guys. Poor Yagami's gonna be in for a rude surprise when he discovers he has one less amp lying around. But, for now, he'll just keep hiding in his bedroom until Vice and Mature eventually kick him out of his own bed.
> 
> Thank you for reading and, hopefully, letting me know your thoughts! Cheers!


	8. Barbershop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. David Tai has become my de facto editor and idea fuel, so special thanks goes to him for providing some dialogue, ideas, and general support. Thanks, dude!
> 
> Onward~

"Yuri, are you _sure_ about this?"

The question — which had been asked several times already — caused Yuri to roll her eyes.

"For the last time, _yes_! I watched a bunch of videos, and those clippers Céccy recommended were delivered the other day. There's no way I'm letting you or Dad near that Flowbee thing he bought!"

Ryo quirked a brow.

"Cé — did King cut her own hair?!"  
"She said something about shaving the back but I haven't FaceTime'd her since she said she was gonna do it but that's not the point anyway — this is about you and Dad and your cavemen hair!"  
"' _Cavemen_ ' hair?!"  
"Yes! Another week or two and you'll have a full-blown mullet, brother! Now grab a towel and sit down over there," Yuri commanded while pointing a finger toward a chair that had been set up in the kitchen.

"I can just go to Great Clips, you know," Ryo grumbled. "They're actually open now."  
"You really wanna risk catching it? And then passing it on to Dad? He'd be dead in a week."

A scowl followed by a thoughtful nod as Ryo pulled a dish towel from a drawer.

"Yeah, you're probably right."  
"I _am_ right! Now! Sit!"  
"HAI!"

Ryo gave an exaggerated salute before lowering himself onto the chair situated between the stove and the island.

"Okay —" Yuri picked up a spray bottle that was resting on the surface near her — "I'm just gonna wet your hair a little and then we'll get to it."  
"Yuri, I swear to God if you mess this up —"  
"Shut up, I know what I'm doing."

Yuri started liberally spraying Ryo's hair, frowning as he flinched every time the water hit his skin.

"What the hell, Yuri?! Is there ice in that?!"  
"Oh, don't be such a baby!"

Yuri set the bottle aside so she could start cutting her sibling's hair, making doubly sure to keep everything as neat as possible, given how unruly his locks typically were. Soon, she found herself getting into a pretty decent groove… a cut here, a cut there… comb through there… cut cut cut…

"How much longer is this gonna take?"  
"I dunno," Yuri answered distractedly. "You have a ton of hair."  
"It's too quiet in here," Ryo complained. "Can't you turn on some music or something?"  
"If I stop I'll lose my place."

Yuri's mind started to wander about as the sound of the sharp instrument in her hand started to become sort of mind-numbing. She knew she needed to focus on the task at hand, but, also, Ryo was right: it _was_ too quiet.

"Soooooo," Yuri said as she trimmed a particularly wild bit. "How's your spleen?"  
"It's fine," came a somewhat confounded reply.  
"You know, bro," Yuri said, a good conversation topic quickly occurring to her, "Mai started her YouTube thing and I'm gonna help her out sometimes. Maybe you should come on, too."  
"Uhhh… for _what_?"  
"I dunno. You gotta be the straight man, though."  
"I _am_ straight."  
"Not like that, you ninny!"  
"Like what then?" Ryo asked, his tone genuinely curious.  
"Just… you know… come chill out with us. Mai is thinking about doing some workout stuff, but she seems to like doing reaction vids."  
"Workout stuff, huh? That could be excellent publicity for the school…"  
"Ugh, _really_ , brother?! This is for _funsies_! Besides, no one's gonna enroll because we're not even open," Yuri pointed out.  
"Hmmmmm…."

Yuri could practically _hear_ the frown on Ryo's face. She stared down at the scissors in her hand as a totally random and unrelated thought occurred to her.

"You know... I still don't think I get that scissoring thing."  
"Oh, shit, Yuri, don't tell me you're on your edibles right now," Ryo entreated, his voice somewhat panicked.  
"I'm stone cold sober, you jerk," Yuri replied. "But, no, I was just wondering. Because… like… I'm here using scissors — for _cutting_. So it still doesn't really… make… sense to me."  
"Well, it's not like she even answered the question to begin with," Ryo pointed out. "Or were you too stoned to remember?  
"No, I remember."  
  
Yuri stopped cutting, reached for the clippers that were on the counter, and grimaced as she tried _not_ to imagine her friend in the throes of ecstasy as she did… whatever the heck the act actually involved. Or what it might have involved, anyway. She suddenly felt intense heat in her cheeks and was definitely thankful that Ryo couldn't see her. She cleared her throat before turning on the small device.

"Why don't we go back to discussing the vlogging thing…?"

It was clear from Ryo's cadence that he was wildly uncomfortable.

"Good idea," Yuri agreed, probably a little too quickly. Couldn't talk to big brother about _those_ things… no siree… And definitely not Robbie. Nope. Nopenopenope.

"So, where do _you_ fit in?"  
  
The question brought Yuri back from what could have been a very confusing train of thought.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
"You said you were gonna help Mai sometimes, right? What does that involve?"  
"Oh —" Yuri carefully used the clippers near the base of Ryo's skull — "I'll react to stuff with her, or try out different products or hacks —"  
"What sort of products?" Ryo's tone was suspicious.  
"Nothing weird," Yuri answered. "Just, like… some butt cream she found online —"  
"That's not weird?!"  
"It's a little weird, sure. But, yeah, butt cream, and massagers — not _those_ kind you freak —"  
"I wasn't gonna say anything!"  
" — and whatever else catches our attention. ...All done!"

Yuri gave Ryo a small mirror so he could take a look at her work. He scrutinized his reflection, moved some hair around, then felt the back of his head and neck before actually grinning.

"Not bad," he commented.  
"See? And you thought I'd mess it up," Yuri beamed while she took the towel from her brother's shoulders and shook it out (she would sweep up in a minute).

"Oh," she continued, "Mai also said something about cooking. You know, recipes and trying out stuff that shows up on Tik Tok."  
"Like cloud bread?" Ryo questioned while standing up.  
"How do you know what cloud bread is?"

Yuri raised her eyebrows, genuinely taken aback by Ryo's knowledge of something that was so… _not_ Ryo.

"YouTube," came the answer.  
"Riiiiiiight," Yuri said while grabbing the broom to sweep the floor.  
"What?"  
"Nothing. Go get Dad."

Without a word Ryo disappeared from Yuri's sight as he called for their father to come down for his haircut.

"What's taking so long?" Yuri called after a brief moment.  
"He's not answering."

Puzzled, Yuri set the broom aside so she, too, could call for the old man... to no avail. Her and Ryo agreed to split up to check in and around the house; she would take upstairs, he would take downstairs and outside. Seven minutes later the siblings met up in the living room, both confused... and concerned.

"He's not here," Ryo remarked.  
"Where do you think he is?!"  
"I dunno, but I hope he remembered to take a mask with him…"

All at once Yuri's stomach lurched and she felt a dread like no other. Ryo must have felt it, too, given how his eyes widened and his face paled.

"Oh, no."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you guys, but I miss haircuts, and I miss my hairdresser dearly. First order of business if things ever get back to normal? Get my roots done because this dye job has seen much better days, but whatever, let's do this:
> 
> * A Flowbee is a weird combination of hair trimmer and vacuum cleaner that looks like it was invented by a sadist.  
> * Céccy = King, whose haircut requires regular maintenance in the back, lest things start growing oddly.  
> * Did you read the earlier chapters where Yuri gets stoned, gets confused about scissoring, and decides to ask the only friend she's positive has had lesbian sex about it? Because if you somehow missed it, you might wanna check it out, since Yuri is totally bi-curious, which might become important down the line.  
> * King is a raging bisexual. "bUT SHe lIkES rYO!" ...Do you know how bisexuality works?  
> * The butt cream is something that was discussed in Discord. As of this writing I can't even remember who brought it up or how, but it was the... butt (tee-hee) of some very interesting conversation(s).  
> * Hey, Tik Tok's not banned yet.  
> * Cloud bread, if you have not heard of it, is basically a baked meringue (egg white and sugar beaten together until it reaches a fluffy consistency) that is then baked for a few minutes to create something resembling a cloud.
> 
> Alright! So! Where in the Southtown is Takuma Sakazaki? Let me know where you think he went in the review box below! As always, thank you for taking the time to read and — hopefully! — review! 
> 
> Until next time~


	9. WAP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I actually thought of this a couple of weeks ago, but I had some other things I wanted to get squared away before I decided to formally tackle it. As you might have guessed, this short involves a very specific song.
> 
> Onward~

“Okay, ladies,” Mai said while scanning the images and faces on her monitor. “Are we all here?”  
“Yup!” Yuri flashed a thumbs up.  
“You know it,” Mary said with a grin.  
“Ouais,” a disembodied voice issued from a black screen.  
  
Mai frowned.  
  
“Kingy, can you please turn on your camera?”  
“No,” came a flat reply.  
“Aw, c’mon, Céccy!” Yuri entreated. “We miss your face!”  
“Let them see you in all of your pale, hermit glory, bb!” Mary chimed in.  
“No,” King retorted. “I —”  
“You don’t look terrible,” Mai quickly interrupted. “This is kind of a visual thing, anyway, so I really, really sorta _need_ you to turn your camera on.”

There was a long stretch of silence before King let out a low, miserable sounding grunt. The small, black thumbnail was replaced with the image of a hooded figure.  
  
“Seriously?!” Mai and Yuri exclaimed at the same time.  
“At least her camera’s actually on now,” Mary pointed out.  
“The viewers are gonna be really disappointed,” Mai said. “They’re always asking me about you.”  
“Samesies,” Yuri added, which garnered a snicker from Mary.  
  
Yuri’s expression instantly shifted from cheerful to somewhat irked.  
  
“What’s so funny?” she asked. Mary raised her eyebrows, completely unaffected by the change in Yuri’s demeanor.  
“Nothing,” the detective said coolly.  
“If you have something to say to me —”  
“I have nothing to say to you nor do I have anything against you,” Mary interrupted, “so do me a chocolate favour and chill out. Okay?”  
  
Yuri narrowed her eyes but nodded. Meanwhile, Mai glanced at each face (or what she could see of them, anyway) before checking her mic.  
  
“You’re not gonna budge, are you, Kingy?” she inquired. She fixed her eyes on King’s little square; her lips (which, along with her chin were the only visible parts of her face) were pressed together in a thin line.  
  
“Fine,” she sighed while removing her hood.  
  
Mai immediately realized why her friend was so hesitant to show her face: she had really dark circles under her eyes that rivaled even Mary’s, zero makeup on, which made her look almost completely androgynous, and she was using a small clip to keep her hair away from her face. Unlike Mai, who had dolled herself up just a little for the occasion, or Mary and Yuri, who knew they’d have to make “public” appearances, King was completely… _un_ -camera-ready.  
  
...But it was probably the apocalypse anyway, so it didn’t really matter. The important thing was that she was there.  
  
“Hey there, you sexy bitch,” Mary laughed.  
“Sexy bitch, indeed,” Mai added while Yuri giggled. “Are we ready to get started?”  
  
Everyone nodded.  
  
“Then here we go,” Mai told them with a grin. She cleared her throat, sat a little straighter in her seat, hit a button to her left, and turned on the charm.  
  
“Hi guys! Welcome back to my channel! Today I am joined by my special guests, the adorable Kyokugen Cutie, Yuri Sakazaki —”  
“Hello~!” Yuri flashed a sweet smile.  
“ — One of Southtown’s Finest, and my future sister-in-law, Blue Mary Ryan —”  
“Howdy,” Mary greeted with a shy wave of her hand.  
“ — And, finally — _finally_ ! — we have… dun-dun dah duuuu~n! The ass-kicking bartender, King!”  
“...Hi,” King mumbled, obviously unsure of what to do with herself.  
  
Mai grinned happily; she was so glad that everyone was “together” and, in the case of Yuri and Mary, getting along.  
  
“So, today,” she went on, “I have something… interesting to share with you ladies.”  
  
There was a pause as the other three women raised eyebrows, tilted heads, or pressed lips together.  
  
“‘Interesting’?”  
“Ooh, what is it?”  
“Oh shit...”  
  
“It’s nothing _bad_ ,” Mai quickly assured her companions. “But, as you know… there’s a song out there that’s making waves. It’s… _controversial_ , if you will. And I’d like to play it for you all.”  
  
A brief lull.  
  
“For what purpose?” King inquired.  
“To see if you ladies like it, of course!”  
“Do _you_ ?” Mary asked pointedly.  
  
At that, Mai flashed a coy smile.  
  
“I’ll tell you after I play it. Are you girls ready?”  
  
Everyone nodded, giving Mai the okay to start the song. She pulled up her audio, took a look at each small thumbnail on her screen (all of her friends looked _very_ curious… or hesitant), and hit play. Immediately, Yuri tilted her head to the side, Mary sat expectantly, and King furrowed her brow.  
  
“‘Hoes in this house?’” she asked.  
  
Mai shushed her so they could all continue listening. As far as the hostess was aware she was the only one who had heard the song all the way through, which was exactly why she planned _this_ particular video. As soon as the verse started she looked at her camera and winked.  
  
“I said certified freak —”  
“Is this Cardi B?” Mary asked.  
“Shh!”  
“ — seven days a week —”  
“Definitely Cardi,” Yuri said quietly. Almost the second she fell quiet, King, who looked disconnected from everything, suddenly placed her palms on her table, her eyes wide.  
  
“C’est quoi putain?!”  
“OH MY GOD,” Mary shouted. She covered her mouth with her hands and started laughing, which started to drown out some of the music. Mai simply couldn’t have that so she turned the volume up.  
  
“ — catch a charge, extra large and extra hard —”  
  
“NO!” King yelled while Mary continued to laugh. “I’ve heard about this!”  
“Well now you can actually hear it!” Mai giggled. She reached for a nearby bottle of coconut water and switched her attention from King back to Mary, who was blushing furiously — a sure sign that the normally composed officer was actually a little embarrassed.  
  
“Mary, are you okay?!” Mai chortled as the other woman doubled over in her seat. She waved her hand and pointed at something on her screen as she let out a loud snort. Curious, Mai looked down at the other thumbnails: King, whose face was a crazy shade of red, sat rigid, very obviously short-circuiting, and Yuri stared off, slack-jawed, her own cheeks a little pink.

“Hey, bb,” Mary addressed King between her mad giggles. “What’re your thoughts?!”  
  
King blinked several times while placing a hand on her forehead. She looked almost like she was in the middle of some internal struggle.  
  
“I… ...Men rap lewd things about women all the time,” she slowly began, her voice a little strangled. “Sex positivity in women is often looked down on… so for them to… own that aspect of themselves is… great… And women should be allowed to sing about what they want — just like men…! Because we can — and _should_ — be allowed to do whatever men can already, and if that means… umm… this. Then so be it!”  
  
There was a pause as King grimaced.  
  
“So… ten wet pussies out of ten?” Mary cackled. Mai, who was sipping on her water, nearly spit it out all over her equipment as she began laughing hysterically, not just at Mary’s comment, but at King’s face. Much to her surprise _King_ actually started to laugh, too.  
  
“Mary, espèce de connard,” she gasped.  
“Tu sais tu aimes ça!” Mary replied.  
  
Mai had no idea of what the pair said to each other, but based on their overall tones she guessed it was friendly enough, though she had heard the term “connard” slip out at more… stressful times. Nevertheless, she turned to Yuri, who was still in her own little world.  
  
“Not that you asked,” Mary said, finally composing herself, “but I think this is great! Not in a ‘yeah, I’ll totally listen to it everyday’ way, but, like… it’s good that it’s out there for other people to have fun with and enjoy.”  
“So… not for you?” Mai asked.  
“Not for me, no. I’ll stick to butt-rock.”  
“I probably don’t even have to ask, but… Kingy?”  
  
King slowly pulled her hood back over her head.  
  
“Yaaay, feminism,” she croaked weakly.  
“That’s not an answer,” Mary teased.  
  
Mai watched as King stuck her middle finger out at the screen. Mary drew back in an exaggerated manner and clutched her necklace, a look of feigned shock on her face.  
  
“So, what do _you_ think, Mai?” King prodded from her place under her hoodie.  
“Do you really have to ask?”  
“It’s already on your playlist, isn’t it?”  
“It is!” Mai declared happily. “Besides. I’ve said _way_ worse to Andy!”  
“Of course you have,” both Mary and King said in unison.  
  
Everyone laughed, then, except for Yuri, who was _still_ in her own world.  
  
“What are your thoughts, Yuri?” Mai asked loudly, a large grin on her face.  
  
Yuri jumped, obviously startled at the sound of her name. She blinked a few times, cleared her throat, and folded her hands in her lap.  
  
“What was the question what?!”  
“Your thoughts, silly girl,” Mai answered. “About the song!”  
“O-oh,” Yuri stammered. “It’s… shocking! And — and appalling and I really don’t ever wanna hear it again! Nope!”  
  
With that, she crossed her arms, settled back against her seat, and turned her head to the side. Mai watched her carefully, took a sip of water, and looked to King, who gave her a subtle nod. She stifled her giggles and asked, point blank, “You know all the words, don’t you?”  
  
Yuri let out a quiet squeak as she sank down in her chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Okay, so, in case you've been living under a rock, the song in question is by Cardi B. and Megan Thee Stallion and is called WAP, which is an abbreviation. Go look it up, but maybe do it in an incognito tab. 
> 
> * Other little things here are that the ladies are meeting via Zoom, this is King's first time on Mai's channel, and Mary snickers at Yuri because she's thinking of the tweet from the previous chapter that is aptly called, "Twitter."
> 
> * C'est quoi putain = What the fuck
> 
> * Mary, espèce de connard = Mary, you asshole; Tu sais tu aimes ça = you know you love it
> 
> That's it for now you guys! Thanks for reading and/or reviewing! Cheers~!


	10. Family Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Jean can't spend the entire quarantine grounded. The question of his dynamic with the aunt and uncle came up not too long ago, though it's something that I've thought of for a long time. More at the end.
> 
> Onward~!

“Cécile! Cesser d'être un gosse insupportable!”  
  
Aunt Maddy’s exclamation rang out from the living room, eliciting a grimace from Jean, who had frozen on the stairs the second he heard the elevated voices of his aunt and his big sister, who was either on speaker phone or FaceTime (he couldn’t tell which one it was).   
  
“Moi?! Insupportable?! C'est riche venant de toi tu veux dire vieille salope!”   
  
Jean’s eyes widened; Céc must have been _really_ pissed.   
  
“Cécile!” Aunt Maddy gasped.

Uncle Gary, who was sitting next to Aunt Maddy with an arm draped across her shoulders, sat straight up and leaned toward the phone, which must have been on the coffee table in front of them.  
  
“Cécile,” he bellowed, “that is your aunt and you will not —”   
“Ferme ta gueule espèce de goule fasciste!”   
  
At that, Jean had to throw a hand over his mouth to help suppress a wayward snicker. His sister was clearly in top form, and he had to wonder what it was that Aunt Maddy and Uncle Gary said to her that had her _that_ riled up.   
  
“I don’t know what you said,” Gary retorted, “but you will not talk to your aunt — or myself — like that! Do you understand?!”   
“You know what?” Cécile asked, abruptly switching languages, “I _don’t_ understand. Why don’t you explain it to me Gary?”   
“Your aunt and I —”   
“I made a promise to my brother,” Aunt Maddy started, “to take care of you and Jean —”   
“What the hell does that even have to do with anything?!”   
“Because your disrespect over the years —”   
“ _My_ disrespect?!” Céc shrieked, her voice full of disbelief. “ _Incroyable_ !”   
“Stop being so dramatic, Cécile,” Aunt Maddy snapped. “It’s not helping your case.”   
  
There was a pause as Céc took a very deep breath, and Jean instantly pictured her sitting in her living room, squeezing her eyes shut while tightly pressing her lips together in an attempt to calm herself before she said anything else.   
  
“I’m hanging up now,” she said — clearly through gritted teeth, “Do not call me unless it’s important. And wear your fucking masks.”   
  
Silence. And then:   
  
“That girl,” Aunt Maddy growled. “Always with her self-righteous nonsense! Who does she think she is?!”   
“I don’t know. Definitely a piece of work, though.”   
“After everything we’ve done for her!” Maddy fumed. “She continues to stomp on us with her…! Her _disgusting_ habits, and her… her _lewdness_ ! All of that fighting — like she deserves some kind of medal for hitting people! And her drinking, and the other things she must do in her spare time. It’s repulsive, Gary!”   
  
Jean watched with narrowed eyes as his uncle placed a reassuring arm around Aunt Maddy’s shoulders. The way they talked about his sister was terrible — especially since she had never done anything particularly wrong. Sure, she beat up a lot of kids when she was in high school, and, yeah, she did join the mob for a little while, but that last one was only because she wanted to help pay for his surgery — which he never could have gotten without her.   
  
He suddenly remembered a conversation the two had, where he asked when things got so bad between her and the other adults.   
  
“It was always bad, kiddo,” she had told him sadly. “You’re just older now so you’re aware of it.”   
  
But the big question was _why_ . _Why_ was it so bad? What did Céc do to them that made them want to treat her the way they did? He had brought it up before, of course — on more than one occasion. Unfortunately, his guardians did everything they could to shut the discourse down before it even started.   
  
“You’re too young.”   
“It’s not your concern.”   
“Please go to your room.”   
  
All bullshit responses to force him to drop it.   
  
“I don’t understand how Jean can look up to her the way he does,” Aunt Maddy was saying. “I hope he doesn’t turn out anything like her.”   
“No, Jean’s got a good head on his shoulders,” Gary replied. “He’s far too _good_ to fall into any of the bad habits she has.”   
“Thank _God_ ,” Aunt Maddy replied. “I don’t know what I’d do if he ended up like her.”   
  
Jean held his breath while the couple continued to talk, unaware of his presence. The more he listened to them the more upset he became. It wasn’t the first time he had heard them talk so poorly about his sister, but it seemed like it was so much worse than usual.   
  
“And that ‘rape’ nonsense a while back,” Aunt Maddy complained. “I still can’t get over that one. Of all the lies she’s told us, that one — that one! — takes the cake! It’s young women like her that make it harder for the women who are actually assaulted and abused to step up and report it! Despicable!”   
  
That was it! Jean stomped down the stairs — loudly — and crossed his arms over his chest when his aunt and uncle turned to face him.   
  
“Hey, buddy,” Gary started with a cheerful smile. “What’s —”   
“You guys are jerks,” Jean snapped.   
“Excuse me?!”   
“You heard me! Stop talking shit about Céc! She doesn’t —”   
“Jean!”   
“Language!”   
“ — deserve to be talked about like that or treated like garbage!”   
  
Aunt Maddy jumped to her feet and put a hand on her hip, stone-faced. She opened her mouth to say something but Jean wasn’t about to let her (or Uncle Gary) get another word in until he was done.   
  
“I know you’re gonna tell me to drop it like you always do, but I’m not gonna do that this time! I wanna know what it is that Céc did to you that’s so awful! What did she do to you that made you hate her so much?! And don’t say the mob thing because you were jerks to her before she did that!”   
“Listen, Jean —” Gary stood up and removed his glasses — “we know that you love your sister very much, and she loves you, but —”   
“What. did. she. DO?!” Jean exclaimed.   
“She’s not a good role model,” Aunt Maddy replied. “She has always been very entitled, and dramatic. Furthermore, there are things that you don’t know about — things she has said or do —”   
“Like what?! I already know about the Big Bad — which you keep holding against her even _now_ — and I know that Jess was her girlfriend, and I know she was raped, so what?! What did she say or do that I _don’t_ know about?!”   
  
Aunt Maddy and Uncle Gary exchanged a look.   
  
“Where did you hear that?” Uncle Gary asked.   
“Hear what? The girlfriend thing? Or the rape thing? Because _she_ told me about both.”   
“First of all —” Maddy held a finger up — “your sister was never raped. She only said that because she made a poor decision — as she’s prone to doing.”   
  
Jean felt his jaw slacken; he wondered if it was possible for 12-year olds to have aneurysms because what his aunt said was maddening on every level imaginable.   
  
“Yeah, because she’s definitely the type of person to say a traumatic thing happened to her for no reason,” he shot back with an eye roll.   
“Cécile has a nasty habit of exaggerating, if not outright lying. The truth is that she is violent, and her drinking and… other habits… are unbecoming. Your parents worked hard to make sure that you two were raised properly,” Aunt Maddy necessitated. “And when your father got sick, he put his trust in myself and your uncle to see to it that the two of you were okay. But then your sister —”   
“ _Didn’t do anything wrong_ !” Jean cut across her. He set his jaw and glared at his aunt, still unsure of how her and her husband could be so great to him, and so hateful to Céc.   
  
“Jean,” Uncle Gary sighed while stepping forward. “Sometimes some types of people just… don’t get along. And, unfortunately, your sister is one of those people that your aunt and I… don’t see eye to eye with.”   
“So you just don’t like her.”   
  
There was an uncomfortable lull in the conversation as Uncle Gary wiped his glasses on the bottom of his shirt.   
  
“Do you even love her at all?”   
  
The question appeared to spook the couple. They both tensed up and looked to each other with wide eyes before turning to Jean.   
  
“Cécile is family,” Aunt Maddy began slowly. “And, as family… she’s… important…”   
“Your sister loves you very much,” Uncle Gary stated. “Her relationship with us doesn’t change that. Now, is your room clean?”   
  
Jean narrowed his eyes; obviously that was as far as the conversation was going to go.   
  
This time, anyway.   
  
“Yeah, it’s clean,” he grumbled as he turned and started back up the stairs.   
“Where are you going?” Aunt Maddy called up after him.   
“Back to my clean room.”   
  
It only took a minute for Jean to reach his quarters and shut the door. He plucked the charger from his phone and sat down on the bed, angry at his aunt and uncle for their treatment of Céc, and for giving him half-assed answers to his (very valid) questions. Again.   
  
He navigated the appropriate screens and menus, hit the little button, and waited.   
  
One ring, and then:   
  
“Uh-oh. How much of that did you hear?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let's get right to it, yes? Yes:
> 
> * Cesser d'être un gosse insupportable = Stop being an unbearable brat!  
> * Moi?! Insupportable?! C'est riche venant de toi tu veux dire vieille salope = Me?! Unbearable?! That's rich coming from you, you mean old bitch!  
> * Ferme ta gueule espèce de goule fasciste! = Shut the fuck up you fascist ghoul!  
> * Clearly King gives zero fucks when it comes to how she talks to her aunt and uncle.  
> * Incroyable! = Incredible/Unbelievable  
> * The conversation with King that Jean is thinking back to actually happened in Oxygen to Breathe's fifth chapter (Edit the Sad Parts)  
> * Jess is King's non-canon girlfriend of two years (from 19 to 21) who cheated on her like whoa  
> * In case the subtext has failed, or you haven't been going here, King's importance to Jean is what keeps Gary and Maddy from totally cutting all ties with her.  
> * It has been mentioned previously that King got in a lot of fights at school after moving to America with her aunt and uncle. I haven't really gone into the reasoning (at least, not in any of the actual stories) but it was definitely a Thing™
> 
> Welp, that's it for this installment. Not as much fun as the others, I know, so I guess I'll have to fix that next time...
> 
> Cheers~


	11. Sick Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp! Here we are, folks, with another little lockdown story! This has been in the works for a WHILE, but some other obligations, writer's block, imposter syndrome, and a whole mess of other things kept it on the backburner this whole time. A couple of notes at the end!
> 
> Onward~

Athena Asamiya had never been so exhausted in her entire life.

In the past, she would find herself burnt out by concerts, press tours, and King of Fighters tournaments, but none of those events came close to what she was going through now, and she wished that her current fatigue was brought on by any single one of _those_ happenings (or maybe even all of them at once, if it were possible), and not from the fact that she hadn't really been sleeping because she was keeping her healing powers going almost completely non stop since she first became sick.

She didn't know how she caught COVID-19, as she had done everything so _carefully_ : she cancelled her tour and she wore her masks and she washed her hands and she changed her clothes every time she went out — which was very little. As someone who didn't get sick all that often to begin with, getting hit with the mother of all respiratory illnesses was a definite shock — physically (obviously), as well as mentally.

Because of her sickness, Athena had to quarantine from everyone she held dear (and even those she didn't, of course). Thankfully, those closest to her had not caught it. She was the outlier, and, even though it sucked, she was glad that it was her who was sick, and not one of her loved ones. After all, _she_ had the unique ability to heal herself — but that wasn't without its limitations.

And, so, as Athena stared out of the massive windows overlooking the city from the comfort (or, maybe discomfort in this case?) of her plush sofa, her concentration lapsed, which gave way to a major coughing fit. After what felt like an eternity of hacking, she was able to compose herself enough to visualize her lungs — specifically, the little air sacs within them — and focus what little energy she had on quelling the inflammation.

"D-dammit," she muttered while pulling a blanket around her shoulders. She took a breath — or tried, anyway, as her nose was still really stuffed up despite her efforts to keep her breathing passages clear — and reached for the thermometer on the side table. Her temperature came back at 38°C, which was down from 38.5°, and definitely some much-needed progress. She just hoped that it would continue to lower….

Suddenly, Athena's cell phone started ringing from its place across the living room, eliciting a low groan. The device had been ringing way too much throughout the day, the sound of her default ringer akin to little explosions or maybe even nails on a chalkboard. However, the custom song currently issuing from the device told her that, this time, the caller was someone she actually _wanted_ to talk to. She used her powers to carefully bring the noisy gadget to her outstretched hand, which caused another coughing fit that made her eyes water.

"H-hi," she choked as she brought the phone up to her ear.  
"Hey bae," Sie Kensou greeted solemnly. "How ya holdin' up?"

Athena answered with a pained noise.

"I'm so tired, Sie," she answered, her voice cracking. "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this…"  
"Hang in there. You'll get through it — like you always do."

Another fit of dry coughs, followed by a sniffly breath.

"I know… I know… but it's so hard. I miss everyone… I miss _you_."  
"I miss you, too. We'll see each other soon — I promise."  
"But you _can't_ promise that."  
"I just did."

There was a pause while Athena made an attempt to use her healing factor once more, but she was so weak that it failed. As a result she could actually _feel_ her temperature slowly beginning to rise. She leaned back and shut her eyes while a headache began to set in.

"He-hey…?"  
"I'm still here, Sie, don't worry."  
"I wish I could be there. I'd bring you soup and sing to you."

Athena chuckled, which hurt her chest a little.

"I'd gladly take the soup, but, please, don't ever sing to me."  
"Aww, c'mon! It'd be great! Here, name a song — an old classic, or something."  
"I'll pass. Thanks, though."

Just then, a low tone sounded, letting Athena know that she was getting another call.

"Hang on," she sighed. She looked down at the screen, which displayed her agent's name, and promptly ignored the call. She was absolutely _not_ in the mood to discuss her career, or anything close to it — especially now that she was ill. The couple fell into silence then, which gave Athena an opportunity to attempt to refocus her healing powers — to no avail. She was simply too worn down; she was going to have to try to eat something (which was not very appealing, given that she lost her sense of taste days ago), or maybe even sleep, before she could resume.

"Uhhh… Teeny?"

The distressed tone of Sie's voice made Athena sit up a tad straighter (but not by much because of how jelly-like her muscles felt).

"You know how I feel about that nickname," she mumbled, despite the sudden vibes she was getting.  
"Okay, good, great, but… we have a problem."  
"And… what would… that… be?" Athena asked around another round of coughs.  
"Go to Buzzfeed."

Athena wrinkled her nose (a very bad idea).

"Why?"  
"Just… trust me…!"

There was _more_ coughing as Athena minimized the Phone app so she could navigate to the mobile version of the popular webpage. She scrolled down, down, down… and gasped when she saw it:

A photo of her from her last public appearance, smiling wide, with the headline:

**ATHENA ASAMIYA HAS COVID-19  
  
**

"Oh… oh no," she moaned as she skimmed the article, which included a candid photo of her leaving the medical facility where she had been tested, and detailed how she hadn't been seen in public for weeks. The article closed out with, "As of this writing we were unable to reach her for comment."

Athena placed a clammy hand on her even clammier forehead as she thought about how fast the rumour mill must have been turning. The comments section was probably already full of speculation as to whether or not she was still alive. But… even though one of the first rules of fame was to avoid the comments section… she had no choice but to venture into the biggest of them all…

"Damn paparazzi!" Athena growled while she stretched out her free hand so she could summon the television remote. The second it was in her palm she started navigating through the menus until she found what she needed.

"Teeny, what are you doing over there? Please don't read the comments. You know not to —"  
"I am _aware_ , Sie," Athena said while trying to hold back another cough, "but I need to see how much of a mess this is…"

She selected YouTube and went to the livestreams. Sure enough, he was streaming. She selected the appropriate channel and began watching.

"I just… I can't believe it," Jhun Hoon, AKA White Tiger, AKA Team Korea's #1 Athena Stan, was sobbing into his microphone while one of Athena's singles played softly in the background. " _Sweet_ , _adorable_ Athena! She did _nothing_ wrong! _Nothing_ wrong! And now… now…!"

He stopped to bury his face in his hands. He took a deep, shaky breath, uncovered his face, and continued:

"I can't believe that we live in a world… a world where Athena Asamiya would be… _victimized_ … by this horrible, _horrible_ disease! We need to band together, and send her our well-wishes. Our prayers. Our —"

Jhun stopped and let out a sniffle as he stared a little off to the left, evidently reading something from the chat box.

"I know. I know, NastyBee2003. This is gonna be tough — for all of us. We just have to — No. No, we cannot fuck COVID in the ass."

Athena stared at the screen, transfixed, as Jhun continued to talk to his viewers about the state of her health while the chat window on the side of the screen went absolutely haywire. It was nice to be adored by her fans, but did her medical condition really warrant an entire livestream discussion, led by one of Korea's greatest fighters?

Apparently, the answer was yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Did you really think no one was going to get COVID? Anyhow.
> 
> * Athena and Kensou are hooked up in illyverse here, which borrows some things from Rex Madison's continuity. We, like, collab'd or whatever. It's called Hurt and you should totally read it if you haven't already.  
> * Athena calls Kensou by his first name. Obviously.  
> * 38°C = 100.4°F; 38.5C = 101.3F  
> * "I am aware, Sie," is a callback to a line in Hurt, which was also a callback to one of Mads' many Athena fics.  
> * Jhun Hoon, is, of course, a massive Athena stan, and his username/online alias is White Tiger.  
> * "Stan" for those who may not know, is a term that means a super, duper, MASSIVE fan. It's derived from the song Stan by Eminem  
> * I've watched a lot of YouTube during this quarantine  
> * Let's keep an eye out for the NastyBee2003 in the future... winky face.
> 
> That's all for now you lovely guys and gals! Cheers!


	12. Spray My Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello! I didn't think I'd be back so soon between chapters, but here I am... and, this time, I've brought a guest: jojoDO! Dude's been my biggest cheerleader as of late, and when he came to me with an idea to team up for a Seclusion short, I just... I loved the idea so much that we took it and ran with it. So, make sure you say hello to him and thank him for his service on this!
> 
> Onward~!

Mary Ryan was enjoying some downtime, heading to the local Target to pick up some basic essentials: more toothpaste, so she could quit trying to elbow-drop her near empty tube, a jumbo bag of Purina for her dog, Anton, some more of the nice flour tortillas that she liked to put leftover chicken in… and she decided to swing for a gift for Terry. It wasn't much, but he loved Hungry Man frozen dinners. Made him feel "manly", she guessed. So handsome, so simple-minded, he was.

Of course, she would have to call him to figure out the best way to deliver said gift, as the pandemic was still in full swing, and, even though she had seen her bestie in person exactly three times, _she_ was without child. Terry, on the other hand, had Rock, so dropping in on him unexpectedly was a no-go.

But she would deal with all of that later.

Eventually, as Mary continued to shop, curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to go seek out something there was _no way_ they'd have in stock. The increasingly forbidden realm of highly sought-after items: antibacterial wet wipes, disinfectant spray — things of that nature. Simple human commodities that had suddenly been ripped from an easy grasp, and, as a result, were now arguably just as valuable as diamonds.

"Guess it wouldn't hurt," Mary muttered to herself as she rolled her shopping cart over to the aisle (jokingly referred to as "No Man's Land") in pursuit of something as simple as Lysol disinfectant spray. She didn't want anything fancy, like pomegranate-scented crap… just the most basic canister would suit her. She didn't _expect_ to come across anything useful; it was more like one of those playful, harmless curiosities. Something like a scratch-off ticket, or maybe a name entry in a contest. The kind of low-expectation fun that could never really hurt a person…

When she reached the aisle in question, her jaw actually dropped under her mask. Laid out in a shimmering metallic row, rays of light from the ceiling above bouncing off of them...

She could almost hear a choir of angels harmonizing.

"No way…!"

She approached the shelf, thoroughly eyeing the wares. In all its glory, _the Target in Southtown had Lysol disinfectant spray_. Even crazier was how the shelf didn't seem even halfway cleaned out! Sure, there were some notable gaps, but Mary couldn't even see to the back of the display.

Before testing fate and simply reaching out to grab one, Mary carefully scanned her surroundings: no personnel in sight to scold her. However, there was one obvious moderative structure in place to prevent one asshole from filling two buggies full of the stuff:  
  


**ONE PER CUSTOMER**

"Figures," Mary chuckled to herself.

It put her in an awkward position though, as she had a dilemma on who to actually get it for. She could please herself, of course… or Terry, especially with him having Rock. She could get it for King, the platonic lady-love of her life, who would assuredly pass it on to her cuntbag aunt and uncle, for Jean's sake.

...So who? Who, who, _who_?

As Mary stood there, mulling it over, she started to realize the potential delicacy of the situation. It was then that she saw a man casually approach the shelf, take one and —

...Wait. Didn't she see him exit the store as she walked past the registers a few minutes ago?

"That guy was already in the checkout," Mary murmured to herself, distinctly remembering that black-haired gentleman with a beard and a gray t-shirt, with two loaded plastic bags. Only now, he was wearing a red cap, a brown jacket, and had changed his gray shirt to blue. Of course, the average employee at a retail store wasn't sharp or insightful enough to notice those details, but Blue Mary Ryan was a professional. It wouldn't get past her on her worst day.

"Some people…"

Mary rolled her eyes as she insulted him quietly. She chalked it up to one shameless and cheeky individual trying to work the system, took her own Lysol with the intention to continue with her errands.

...But that was when she witnessed a _second_ familiar, which made her get a little suspicious.

"What…?"

This time it was a woman:

Distinct big nose, pale white skin, brown hair, black earrings. She was wearing a black Nirvana shirt and jeans. Mary swore she saw this _exact same woman_ — pale skin and all — walking through the parking lot with a full cart as Mary was coming in. But she had been sporting purple earrings, sunglasses, a white hoodie, and a red tank top instead of the t-shirt she was currently wearing.

Mary officially kicked into Detective Mode: one instance of this happening could be written off, but there was no way _two_ people in the exact same timespan were deciding to be crafty dicks at Target. What were the odds that different strangers had the same idea of coming in, undoubtedly grabbing Lysol, exiting, changing clothes… it was too much to be a coincidence.

The detective had no intention of letting this go. Her curiosity was already well-piqued, her hunger for justice insatiable… and she had literally no plans for the day beyond frumping on the couch and watching reruns of _The Office_ on Netflix.

Thus began what was probably the first ever "Target Stakeout" in Southtown, as Mary Ryan was all-too content to bide her time inside the superstore, watching, waiting, anticipating the arrival of the next person to come and grab a can of the coveted aerosol.

"Bingo."

Mary whispered softly as she saw her next mark approach: a middle-aged looking man, barely any hair on his head, with a thick red beard. White collared shirt with blue stripes. Denim shorts. Sandals.

She casually — but carefully — focused on the individual, as he did as the others had: approached the Lysol, grabbed one to add to his semi-full cart, and proceeded to the checkout.

She whipped out her phone, scrolling to the clock tool: she pressed the "stopwatch" icon.

"And… mark!"

The minutes went by. One… two… three… maybe she had missed him? Maybe he'd already made his first trip? No… because why would he buy more groceries the second time? Unless he was trying to look really believable, by dividing his shopping list...

Finally, Mary stopped pondering to herself and let out a relaxed sigh; she hadn't missed him at all. Five minutes, forty-six seconds it took, before the exact same man came down the aisle again. Middle-aged. Thick red beard. Gray hoodie, with a blue shirt under. Jeans. Sneakers. A hat to cover his mostly-bald head. Sunglasses to hide his eyes.

"Who the hell is he fooling…?"

Mary asked that rhetorical question out loud, as she knew _precisely_ who he was fooling: the poor minimum-wage cashiers working the registers, the bulk of them probably still in high school. But more importantly, this was the _third_ instance of this happening since Mary had been there. A scam was going on… no, maybe even bigger. This was some kind of… Lysol heist?

Mary decided to go for the kill. She made sure she fell in behind the man in the checkout, a daring move to boldly flock to his same register. He probably wasn't aware that she was monitoring him; at worst, he might have spotted her, stopped to ogle her for a moment (he seemed like the type, plus, even with her chin-length hair in a tiny ponytail and her star-covered face mask, she was a sexy bitch), but he was probably just a feeble-minded guy, looking ahead two feet in front of him, seeking personal gratification. There was no way he'd take time out of his day to worry about who might be investigating him. He must have thought nobody cared enough to try and stop him.

Suffice it to say, he underestimated Blue Mary Ryan on a day she was bored and wanted some Lysol.

She followed him out into the parking lot, carrying her own limited supply of groceries in her arms, before veering off to get to her own vehicle. She unlocked her door as quickly as possible and stuffed her things in, making sure she kept the man in her rear-view mirror. She was looking for something — _something_! A lead, a bread crumb — a sign that this was part of some greater picture than just three assholes coincidentally trying to scam Target. She wanted something big. She wanted some validation for all this potentially wasted time.

...That's when she finally saw something red hot.

The man had pocketed his Lysol can, shut the door to his vehicle, and walked away, looking around carefully.

"Oh no you don't!"

Mary sprang into action. Pursuing fiercely behind him, she trailed just enough that he didn't notice her following him. She stayed glued to him as he rounded a corner behind the store, near what appeared to be the dumpsters, and a wide-open lot where the employees parked their cardboard bales.

Mary's mouth parted when she saw what was going down.

"What the hell…?!"

A dark red pickup truck was parked out back, its motor still running. And in the back… a stack of blue and white metallic cans like nothing Mary could have imagined. They occupied every square inch of the surface — but the _height_ was something Mary couldn't believe: they were stacked all the way up, level with the roof! Only a crudely-placed blanket was draped over, attempting to conceal all of it, but anyone with eyes could make out just how far the cans went. It was like mountains of gold bullion, and in this troubling time… Lysol was worth just that.

Mary's next thought was to deduce who — _who_ — in their deranged mind, possessed the lunacy, the audacity, the shamelessness to pull something as deplorable and unforgivable as —

...Oh.

"Hey, nice job my guy."

His maniacal voice couldn't be mistaken, as he snatched the Lysol can from the man's hand and slipped him some cash.

"Like I promised, double the price you paid for it. And since you got me two, a nice lil' bonus."  
"Thanks, man!" The swindler happily expressed as he ran off with a few extra dirty bucks in his pocket.

Mary was officially done. Her eyes grew narrow, her lips drooped… a scowl appeared on her face that could only be described as "stink", as a frustrated exhale spilled out of her nostrils.

No more caution. No more discretion. She stomped up to the man in question: a towering guy, dressed in a working-class black suit, with a light blue undershirt. A black neck tie rested on his chest, and a pair of sunglasses obscured his eyes. The most amusing (in the worst possible way) feature of the man's wardrobe was the black pork pie hat resting on his head. Even with all the extra bits and bobbles, Mary knew who he was… and he knew her as well, as evidenced by the way his face twisted when he saw her.

"Umm.. c-can I help you ma'am?" He tried pathetically to play it off, acting like he didn't know her.

Southtown PD's Mary Ryan ripped off her mask (which she stuffed in her pocket), her freckled face with the inability to give less fucks.

"Put your hands behind your back."

A sheepish grin, followed by some nervous chuckles.

"Ehehehehehe! C-c'mon Blue, why you gotta do me like that? You gonna arrest me?"  
"I'm not arresting you," Mary spoke sharply as she snatched the large man's arm, spun him around, and pressed him against his own truck. "I'm detaining you."

With a loud click the handcuffs locked tight on his wrists, and Ryuji Yamazaki was officially at her mercy.

"So," Mary said after a brief pause as her captive turned to face her, "You wanna tell me what all of this is?"

Yamazaki shrugged, already testing her patience with a flashing of his pearly whites.

"What? It's Lysol disinfectant spray, of course. Kills 99.9% of bacteria on surfaces in your home."  
"You know that's not what I meant!"

A sharp puff from his nostrils.

"Fine, fine. You wanna hear my big, villainous scheme? Want me to break out in monologue? Fine. I've been driving this truck all over the southern states, paying people to nab me cans of the good stuff. Then I'm taking it across the border... where I'll get muy bueno pesos for my highly-sought inventory. There. Ya squeezed it out of me."

Mary stared up at the man in front of her, brow furrowed, in complete disbelief over what he just told her.

"Un...believable…!"

Yamazaki felt his shoulders start to shrink a little.

"I know, I know... not my finest moment. Look, I'm sorry, Ryan. I'm a degenerate. I love cash. Believe it or not, I take jobs in all countries. Got bank accounts everywhere, too. I'm just tryna keep 'em filled."  
" _You_? A degenerate?" Mary drew back in an exaggerated motion and clutched the star pendant around her neck. "You don't say! You know this is a new low. Right?"

Yamazaki's smile finally faded completely.

"A new low? Oh c'mon! It's not like the people here... _need_ Lysol. I mean, shit. I'm not taking people's money, or food, or denying them medical care. In fact, you know what? It's probably a _good_ thing I'm taking these spoiled, entitled peoples' Lysol away. Maybe they should learn what it's like to live without their precious concessions."  
"As if they haven't already?!" Mary exclaimed. "This stuff hasn't been on store shelves since this whole thing began!"  
"Well, even better that I take away what little you do get, then. Less temptation, less fighting that way. Blue, I've seen two old ladies in South Carolina beat each other with walking sticks for a roll of fucking Charmin. Americans are assholes! Hell, just look at what I did today: my little 'social experiment' showed more than a few true colors."

Mary frowned because, honestly, Yamazaki was sort of right. In her experience, people — not just Americans — were kind of shitty...

"I mean... I get that," she stated slowly, "but there are plenty of people out there who _aren't_ assholes! Like me! Or Terry, or..."  
"Pfff. So?" Yamazaki sneered. "I'm not talking about individual people — I'm talking about a statistic. So, what, you and your people should get Lysol? Thinking of a few and not everybody. Nooooooooooot the thinking of a cop, Blue."  
"What would _you_ know about the thinking of a cop?" Mary asked as her eyes narrowed.

Yamazaki let out a cackle, despite the uncomfortable position of his shackled wrists.

"Know thy enemy, Blue. I've been dodgin' cops long enough to know 'em in and out. Even you, beautifully complex as you can be at times, don't surprise me at all other times. Like… now. Hehehehe."  
"What the hell does _that_ mean?"  
"Means you're just a fascinating little cookie, Blue. Lysol Hero to the masses... avenger who goes beyond the law, and makes bad people pay in blood. Hehe! If everyone was like you, the world would be a much more interesting place. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Mary frowned and abruptly fixed her eyes elsewhere. As much as she _wanted_ to offer some kind of rebuttal, there was something in Yamazaki's words that quieted her. After an extended silence, a devious smirk crossed his lips.

"So where do we go from here? Gonna take me in for the Lysol scam of the century? Or maybe you want to just punish me right here? What's it gonna be, Officer Gray?"  
"I feel like your use of the word 'gray' is meant to get a rise out of me," Mary said casually, "but you've got another thing coming, Ryuji. I'm not gonna be rattled by the words of someone like you. And especially not while you're wearing that stupid hat!"

Yamazaki pouted upon hearing those last two words.

"Oh, now you've done it. Police brutality!"  
"You wish," Mary replied with a roll of her eyes as she reached over, turned Yamazaki around once more and, much to his surprise, inserted her key back into the handcuffs. She removed the steel bonds and placed them in her back pocket.

Meanwhile, Yamazaki opted to resume his position against the truck, gently massaging his wrists as he did so.

"Gee, thanks Blue. Now I can leg it! Gimme a head start?"

Mary let out a disinterested puff.

"You're not going anywhere except the driver's seat of this truck. You're gonna get in, and you're gonna do exactly as I say."

Yamazaki's eyebrows raised.

"Which is?"

Mary pointed outwards, to the distance, to nobody in particular.

"You're gonna drive through the town, and you're gonna give one can of Lysol to every single resident, until this entire truck is empty. I don't care how big of assholes we Americans are. You're a bit of an asshole too, Ryuji… so next time, look in a mirror before you try to pass judgement."  
"Well, who the hell is gonna reimburse me for all those people I paid?" Yamazaki whined.  
"I suggest you chalk this up as a financial loss and move on — while I'm still in a good mood."  
"...This is you in a good mood?"

So Blue Mary's adventure at Target ended in an unexpected manner: with her ultimately doing a good deed for the collective population of the place she called home. In some weird, twisted way, she was happy she stumbled upon Yamazaki doing a dirty job; it ended up paying off… for some people at least. The people she cared about most. Cop or not… everyone had that.

Yamazaki never let up, the entire ride. Mary was honestly shocked; after all this — after what they had gone through together. It felt slightly weird, being on opposite sides... but it served as a healthy reminder of the maniac's unpredictability: he could be a friend to her one minute, a dastard the next.

And, thankfully, he was smart enough _not_ to dare go against her or her loved ones. If that day ever came, he'd have a nasty, fifty-three million volt present waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes!
> 
> * The narration about Mary seeing her bestie "exactly three times" is, of course, referring to King, whom she saw in person in A Subdued Celebration, Karma Police, and Pep Talk.  
> * Rock Howard is still a child in this timeline. Not sorry.  
> * Illyverse Southtown is in SoCal (I've gone over this previously), and heavily based off of San Diego, which is only a short drive to the US/Mexican border.  
> * When Yamazaki mentions Mary going beyond the law, he's referring to the events of Karma Police. Go read it. And say hi to jojo.  
> * The fifty-three million volt present is, of course, Mary's stun gun (ViperTek VTS-989).
> 
> And, with that, I'm out. Hope you've all been enjoying these! Cheers~!


	13. Betta Blow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to preface this by saying that this whole short? It's my older daughter's fault. It was written in the course of a few hours, and wouldn't have been possible without her wonderfully twisted subconscious mind. Also, another special thanks to David Tai. You're a lifesaver, dude!
> 
> Notes at the end, as always.
> 
> Onward~!

* * *

Four twenty-two AM was too damn early for Rivers Cuomo to shout about a half-Japanese girl being just like him, and yet, that's exactly what was happening in King's dark bedroom. Bleary eyed and weighed down by Marron, who was on her chest, she stretched her arm out to the side so she could clumsily pluck her phone from the table beside her.

"Quel est le problème," the sleepy bartender muttered into the device, too groggy to even speak English.  
"Céccy! Céccy," Yuri nearly shouted, "I just had the weirdest dream!"

King brought her free hand to her forehead; she blinked a few times while pushing her hair away from her eyes.

"Quelle heure est-il?"  
"English, Céccy!"  
"Uhh… temp…? Tuh… time," King sputtered. "What time izzit?"  
"I'unno — four-something — but, like, I have to tell you about this," came Yuri's fast response, which sounded just a little too enthused for the obscene hour.

"About what?"  
"This crazy dream I just had!"

King couldn't help letting out a tortured groan. Falling asleep hadn't come easily; it had been so difficult that she almost turned to her emergency sleeping pills, but, luckily, she was able to manage without taking them. But, now…

"Dream," she echoed flatly. "You're calling me about a dream."  
"Yeah!"  
"...Are you high?"

There was a pause before Yuri answered.

"No! Okay, well, maybe a little? I took something before I went to bed."  
"...fuck," King grumbled, fully expecting a tale so nonsensical that words wouldn't even begin to describe it.

"First off," Yuri said, breaking into a fit of giggles. "Do you remember when I had that betta fish a while back? Steven?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Well… I dreamt that Steven was alive."  
"C'est ça?"

King was so tired she couldn't help lapsing into French once more. She shut her eyes and opened her mouth to speak (in English this time), but Yuri cut her off.

"I don't know what you said but don't sound like that."  
"Fine. Sorry," King sighed. "So you dreamt that you still had Steven. And you called me about this… why?"  
"Because Steven was on cocaine," came Yuri's very serious answer.  
"...what?"  
"Steven. was on. cocaine."  
"Who the hell gave your fish cocaine?" King prodded, brow quirked, and slightly more awake.  
"You did."  
" _What_?"  
"Well, you and this weird fish expert lady."

Attention fully piqued, King gently pushed Marron off of her (he had never once moved from her chest) so she could pull her rosebud necklace out, away from her neck, and prop herself up against the headboard.

"Please tell me why I gave your zombie pet coke."  
"He wasn't a zombie, and it wasn't you _exactly_."  
"...Okay?"  
"Okay, lemme start at the beginning," the younger woman told her.  
"Please do."

Yuri cleared her throat and shuffled around before she began:

"I woke up, right? And there was this really weird noise coming from the corner of my room, so I looked over and Steven was there! In his tank, I mean. But he was making a really weird growling noise."  
"But fish don't growl."  
"Let me go on! Anyway, so I thought maybe he was hungry, but I didn't have food in here, so I went downstairs, and you were there. Just… sitting in the living room. But there was this weird lady next to you. And you both turned really slowly and smiled at me. Almost like… _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ or something. But then you told me that she was a fish expert and I was all, 'alright…'."

King made a face while rubbing at her scar, but didn't say anything as Yuri continued:

"I told you guys that Steven was acting really strange, and the fish lady turned to me verrrrrrrryyyyyyy slooooooowly with this hella creepy smile on her face, and she looked me dead in the eye and said, 'Oh, I gave him some cocaine' —"  
"What the fuck?"  
" — and I was all, 'Dude, what?!' but I grabbed the food and ran back upstairs, right? But now, Steven was _really_ growling, and he started ransacking his tank."  
"...He doesn't have hands, though..."  
"No, he was using his fins to, like, knock everything over. But here's where it gets really weird. And maybe a little gross. But _weird_."  
"You mean it's not already weird?!" King asked, full of disbelief.  
"Oh, you'll see," Yuri said, an almost enthusiastic edge to her voice. "When I say that Steven was ransacking his tank, I mean… he was going for it. All in. Like… everything was everywhere, and some stuff was even broken! But, then, when I thought he was done he picked up his poop —"  
"How —?!"  
" — with his tail fin and started _yeeting_ it across the tank!"  
"... _yeeting_?"  
"Yeah, you know — threw? Like that time you yeeted that dude out of Illusion for being a huge jerk to Sally?"  
"No, I know — I've heard Jean say it," King stated. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and took a deep breath. "But how on earth can a fish throw things while under water?"  
"Dream logic, Céccy."  
"Yuri was this —"  
"It gets better," the younger (and possibly stoned) woman interrupted.  
"How so?"  
"Well, after that, I went back downstairs, and you and the lady are still just sitting. So I hopped in front of you guys and was like, 'Why did you give my fish cocaine?! Céccy why did you let this person give my fish cocaine?!'"  
"I, too, would like to know why dream me let some stranger give your fish some blow," King deadpanned, though she was actually _very_ invested in the story.

It was then that Yuri began laughing — _hard_. The sound was infectious, and, despite how drowsy she still felt, a tiny chuckle escaped King's lips.

"Anyway, so you turn to me," Yuri struggled to get the words out because she started cracking up again. "You turned to me — slowly — with… the same creepy smile the fish lady gave me earlier…! And you said… 'Because she gave _me_ some, too'!"

At that, Yuri completely lost it; she started laughing so hard and loud that King had to hold her phone slightly away from her ear.

"Yuri," King said calmly, though the corners of her mouth were curled upward. "Yuri!"  
"Y-yeah?!"  
"What happened next?"  
"Oh, that's it — I woke up," the karate girl replied through her mad giggles. "And I'm really happy because no one is on cocaine. Anyway, what'd you think?!"

King stared straight ahead into the darkness and let out a huge yawn.

"Good night, Yuri."

She hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Here goes!
> 
> * If you've been here long enough then you should have realized by now that there's something of a running theme: No one lets poor King sleep. (Now that she's mostly over her trauma, anyway.)  
> * Because of aforementioned trauma, King has a prescription for sleeping pills. For emergencies.  
> * If you're new or forgot, King's ringtone for Yuri is El Scorcho, by Weezer  
> * Quel est le problème = What's the matter?  
> * Quelle heure est-il = What time is it?  
> * Temp = Time  
> * C'est ça = That's it  
> * Yeet originates from a Vine where a woman says, "This bitch empty!" then yells "Yeet!" as she throws a water bottle.
> 
> That's it for this one! Hope you all enjoyed! Cheers~!


	14. Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I started this randomly, in a stupor, and decided that it was actually too good not to finish and use. More slice-of-life shenanigans.
> 
> Onward~!

Yuri was _tired_. She had spent more than half of her day training, as her father and her brother decided that the newest stay-at-home order gave them the authority (and the _audacity_ ) to make her push herself even harder than she already had during the course of the pandemic. She took a hot shower to relax her sore muscles, and collapsed onto her bed when she was out and dressed. She let out a quiet sigh and was asleep within a few minutes.

" _This is hardcore, there is no way back for youuu_ — "

The familiar song brought Yuri out of her slumber. A little panicked, but still incredibly drowsy, she looked at the bedside clock (it was 2:56AM) and grabbed her phone so she could answer the call.

"Céccy," she said in a hushed voice. "Céccy, what's wrong?!"

Céccy, better known as King, chuckled.

"Yuuuuuuri," she said, her voice light and somehow breathy and tired-sounding. "Yuri, we need to talk."

Yuri made a face. If King sounded like _that_ , then... that meant —

"I… drank all of the red."  
"Red?" Yuri asked carefully.  
"The red," King drawled. "The red wine. I drank it."  
"Are you drunk?!"  
"Depends on your definition of druh… what even _is_ ' _drunk_?' What does that _mean_?"  
"Ummm… it means… that maybe you should go to sleep because it's really late," Yuri told her matter-of-factly.  
"I will! I definitely will. But let's talk first. I have… _stuff_."  
"But can't the stuff wait until morning," Yuri asked. "Like… is it super important?"  
"I want to talk to you but I'm _very_ drunk. I can't _believe_ I did this to myself, all alone, on a Tuesday night. Can _you_ believe I did this to myself?"  
"Ummm… not really…?"  
"Well, I did! I did it and I decided to call you because you're my _friend_ and I want you to know that I love you! I _love_ you, Yuri Sakazaki, and I'm _sorry_ I was such a _bitch_ that one time!"  
"Um, which time?" Yuri asked against her better judgment.  
"You know… the one with the _thing_."

Yuri furrowed her brow, confused.

"What thing?"  
" _That_ thing. _That_ ," King stated, her tone very serious. "Did you know that… that… wow, I'm _really_ drunk."  
"That's why you should sleep now," Yuri said gently. "Rest and don't think about it anymore and then —" a yawn — "in the morning, we can—"  
"No! I have to get this — _God_ , I'm drunk! — off my chest."

Yuri grimaced. She pushed some hair out of her eyes before turning onto her side and adjusting the phone.

"Ummmm… okay," she told King, unable to keep the uncertainty from her voice. "What… what do you —"  
"Je pense que les rouleaux de fromage de Red Lobster sont des _conneries_."  
"...what."  
"Bullshit, Yuri!" King switched back to English. "They're bullshit. Bull! _Shit_!"  
"But what's bull… crap, Céccy?"  
"Ev'rything! 's all bullshit! With the… stupide… fromage!"  
"What's fro… mah… dggge?"  
"Et ils ne sont jamais cohérents!"  
"What."  
"Parfois ils sont tous hard," King exclaimed. The R in "hard" (the only word Yuri understood) came out strange, which was a sign that she was getting pretty worked up over… whatever the heck she was on about.

"Céccy," Yuri wailed. "I don't speak French! No habla français!"

The line went silent and, for a moment, Yuri thought King had surely hung up. It was only when she heard the sound of what she could only assume was something hard spilling out all over the kitchen or bathroom floor (King's apartment had wall-to-wall carpeting) that she knew for certain the call was still going.

"H-hey," she started. "What's —"  
" _Fuck_."

For some reason, that single swear elicited a strong feeling of dread. Yuri sat up, ready for… she didn't even know what… but, before she could ask what was going on, King started laughing.

"I spilled the cat food!"  
"Oh," Yuri said, relieved.  
"I need to vacuum it up or else Marron's gonna get _super_ fat!"  
"Céccy," Yuri entreated, just a little panicked. "Céccy, it's after three in the morning! Your neighbors!"  
"I _have_ to do this," King slurred resolutely. "Or _else_. I don't want my cat to get diabetes. Thanks for the nice chat, Yuri- _chaaaaaaaaaaan_."  
"Dude, wait! Don't —"

Three low beeps told Yuri that King had hung up. She considered getting up and driving over to the drunken bartender's apartment for the express purpose of wrenching the vacuum cleaner out of her hands and getting her to sleep, but there was no point: there was no way she'd ever get there in time to stop the impending disaster.

With a frown, Yuri placed her phone aside and hoped that King wouldn't be _too_ hungover, or get into _too_ much trouble with her landlord in the morning.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidental revenge FTW!
> 
> But, hey, I made no claim that this was a masterpiece by any means, okay. Anyway:
> 
> * A new stay-at-home order went into effect in California, where Southtown is located in my fics. Wear your masks!  
> * King's ringtone in both Mary and Yuri's phones is This is Hardcore by Pulp (specifically the bridge)  
> * Reminder that English is not King's first language, which means that she has a tendency to start crossing her language wires while under the influence  
> * Je pense que les rouleaux de fromage de Red Lobster sont des conneries = I think Red Lobster's cheesy biscuits are bullshit  
> * Yuri really likes Red Lobster   
> * Stupide fromage = stupid cheese  
> * Et ils ne sont jamais cohérents = And they're never consistent  
> * Parfois ils sont tous hard = Sometimes they're all hard  
> * Overweight cats can develop diabetes, and Marron is already a bit chunky  
> * There was actually a line about King getting drunk and calling friends to ramble about life in the middle of the night in a previous fic (which one it is escapes me at the moment!) so, obviously, this is not a new thing
> 
> Alright, then! That's it for this one, folks! Feel free to let me know those thoughts and feels either in the comments below or, hell, even the bird app! Remember to mask up and keep social distancing! Cheers~!


	15. Foster Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Happy New Year!
> 
> I had originally thought of this short months ago, but I didn't like where it was going so I just sat on it. However, I decided that it was still worth including, so, after making a few small edits, I present to you my shitty (and really short) attempt at tackling none other than Iori.
> 
> Enjoy! (I hope!)

Iori Yagami was not known for his winning personality. His murderous thoughts toward Kyo, his own blood curse, being haunted by two women he outright slaughtered with his bare hands, and many other factors kept him in a state of perpetual brooding. The global pandemic certainly hadn't done much to help that; not being able to play gigs had all but destroyed Iori's livelihood, which made him even _more_ disagreeable than he usually was.

Performing with his band was something positive in a life that had been full of heaviness: angst, drama, death… Iori was no stranger to any of it, but when he held his guitar it all melted into the background… for a little while, anyway. And even when places around the country started to reopen, people were — understandably — hesitant to venture out after spending so long in their homes, being told that contact with others was bad.

He supposed it would let up eventually… and it did — slightly. But then _another_ lockdown was declared, and, just like that, everything was put on hold once more.

Thankfully, music was not Iori Yagami's only happy place.

The red-haired man sat on the bedroom floor of his apartment with a very tiny, but very pissed off kitten before him. The black and white feline hissed (a pathetic sound that was more like a small puff of air than anything else) and dug its sharp, needle-like claws into Iori's skin, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. Whereas most people would have pulled back and cradled their bloody scratches, Iori honestly didn't care — which was probably why he was the one tasked with rehabilitating the _feral_ kittens for the local animal shelter he sporadically volunteered at, as opposed to the numerous kennel technicians who were actually on the payroll.

"Alright, you," he muttered. He grabbed the animal by the scruff of its neck, literally ripping its claws out from his hand, and, despite his frustration, gently placed it on a nearby pillow. He then swiftly reached for a tiny bottle of synthetic milk and held the nipple out toward the disagreeable feline. He turned it so it was at a forty-five degree angle, squeezed a drop of formula out, and waited… waited… waited… until the kitten finally started suckling.

If Iori were a different type of person he might have cheered, as he had spent the better part of forty minutes fighting with the small beast. Instead, he held the bottle carefully, and, as the kitten continued to drink, he slowly brought his other hand over so he could very gently stroke its back, which became rigid at the very first touch. Undeterred, he gave it another gentle pet, and another, until it finally relaxed so much that it started purring and kneading its small paws into the pillow.

At that moment, Iori knew that he had won.

And, so, a small but genuine smile spread across his lips as he continued to nourish his tiny charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you it was short *shrugs*
> 
> Anyway, no substantial notes. The best way to bottle feed a kitten is to place it on a pillow and hold the bottle at a 45 degree angle while you let some drops of formula drip on to the kitty's mouth. Also, Japan recently declared a state of emergency and locked down again because of COVID.
> 
> So, like, if you're still here, thank you for sticking with me, and thank you for taking the time to read! Stay safe out there! Cheers!


	16. Intuition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Time to see bring in another key player. Special thanks to my husband for helping me name this chapter.
> 
> Onward~!

"Oh. Um, Kingy has mono."

Chizuru Kagura didn't know why, but there was something about the casual statement that bothered her. Maybe it was the _way_ Mai said it; it was quick, but there was a slight touch of hesitation behind her words. Maybe it was the subtle change in her expression, or the slight shift in her posture that the average person wouldn't have noticed.

Or, maybe… _maybe_ it was because Chizuru _knew_ that it was an outright lie.

But why would Mai feel the need to lie to _her_? And about their mutual friend at that?

...Their mutual friend whom Chizuru hadn't talked to in ages, not because of any sort of dislike, but because they didn't really have that much in common...

Other than a happy birthday text here, or a Christmas card there, Chizuru and King hadn't communicated in some time. Even getting together with _Mai_ had been… difficult. Chizuru was a busy woman, but she felt it important to make time to say goodbye to the kunoichi, who was moving to America in a matter of days. She had seemed well enough, but when the subject of King came up it was almost like a dark cloud settled over her shoulder — but only for a moment, as the conversation was very hastily steered in an entirely different direction.

Nevertheless, it was _incredibly_ strange.

Later that afternoon Chizuru found herself alone in her office, between meetings, and a little perturbed. It was because of that fact that she decided to take the plunge: she would text King (that was all she had time to do anyway) and see if she could glean anything from her directly. The time difference meant that it was around nine PM out in California, so she was more than likely awake anyway.

Chizuru fired off a text, and, within minutes, got a response — a response that was somehow strange and out of character, though she couldn't place _how_. She decided to give King the benefit of the doubt, though; if she was as sick as Mai said, then she wouldn't feel up to talking in any capacity. Best to let her rest.

But one day turned into one week which turned into three, and, suddenly, _months_ had passed.

Chizuru's countless duties had kept her busy — kept her from even _thinking_ about the unusual behaviour of her former teammates. It wasn't until she watched a televised bout between Team Psycho Soldiers and Team Women Fighters that she began to feel that something wasn't right. King's technique against Athena Asamiya was unusually sloppy; the Muay Thai expert was literally all over the place, missing her strikes and taking a lot of punishment as a result. But then the match ended on a very peculiar note: Athena just… stopped after a Teleport. She stopped moving, stopped speaking. She was frozen in place… and King damn near killed her for it. It was a shocking display of violence from the normally composed bartender, one that deeply disturbed Chizuru. She wanted to reach out — to maybe get a dialogue started — but her obligations to her company, and keeping tabs on the Seal, and making sure Kyo and Iori didn't kill each other, and the host of other things on her plate made it so that she couldn't even acknowledge it.

So, once again, time passed with no _real_ communication between Chizuru and King (or Mai for that matter). Despite the usual polite holiday and birthday messages, there was nothing, which begged the question: how could she possibly swoop in, out of the blue, to broach the subject of something that was ancient history by now? Did she still want to?

And _that_ was what Chizuru found herself pondering during another day of the lockdown that was expected to be extended. Not how many meetings she had left for the week, or if there was anything going on in the realm of the supernatural, or if Kyo and Iori were adequately social distancing. No, she was thinking about a lie she had been told over a year ago.

But _why_? _Why_ did it matter _now_ , and in the midst of a global pandemic? As far as she was aware, King and Mai were doing fine over in America, and if they weren't, then, surely, word would have somehow made it back to her… right?

Under that logic, she had nothing to worry about. However, thinking back to that match, and how King looked… it wasn't like her. Was it? They hadn't talked in so long; who was _she_ to say what was and wasn't normal for the other woman? Whatever it was, she surely must have been past it by now… but there was only one real way to find out.

_How_ would Chizuru do it, though? A Zoom call with _both_ of her former teammates to ask… _what_? What was she even asking about?

Or… instead of pulling Mai back into whatever it was, she could just do the unthinkable and make an actual, honest to God telephone call to King herself — just to check in. The pandemic was the perfect excuse, after all.

…It took half an hour to come to a decision.

Half an hour before Chizuru finally approached her device, eyes narrowed. She tilted her head slightly, took a very deep breath, and sighed.

"Pick up the phone."

The command to herself was clear; assertive. And, also, useless, as her hand didn't even move.

"Pick _up_ the phone," she told herself once more.

This time, her hand actually twitched, but nothing more.

"Pick. Up. The. Phone."

In one fast motion, Chizuru forced herself to snatch the expensive gadget off the table. She then navigated through her contacts until she found the outdated photo of King. She fixed her gaze on the series of numbers on the screen and set her jaw; this shouldn't have been so hard. Why was this so hard? She had fought (and helped defeat) a literal _god_. Why couldn't she make a mundane call?

"That's it!" Chizuru yelled out loud, a little impatient with herself. She took another deep, meditative breath and then pressed her thumb down on the unfamiliar digits.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of quick notes, because, of course:
> 
> * King's cover story for when she was assaulted was that she had mono, which, if you're unfamiliar with, causes extreme fatigue and takes about four to six weeks to recover from. Other symptoms include a severe sore throat and swollen lymph nodes (which created the perfect excuse for King to not even have to TALK to anyone for a while as she healed up).  
> * In case you're new here, Hurt is the collab I did with RexMadison, and sees Athena discovering King's secret during a KOF bout. It's not the super major canon KOF though. Think of it like boxing: you have many cards throughout the year, with the big super fights occurring... whenever the hell they occur. Same sort of deal. Because, as we all know, you can't have the BIG KOF tourney without some kind of crazy event during the finals. Cool? Cool.  
> * The events of Hurt (and the King versus Athena match that Chiz sees on telly) take place roughly a year after the events of Much Like Suffocating. During that match King uses Silent Flash to break Athena's spine before hitting her with a Venom Shot, thus landing her in the hospital despite her healing abilities.  
> * I have no idea what the hell Chiz does. She's a business woman running a company, though, so that means she probably spends a fuck ton of time in meetings.  
> * Japan was put into another state of emergency not too long ago, and, according to the news, it will probably be extended into the coming weeks.
> 
> Alright! There you have it! What will happen now? Hell, will King even answer the phone? Let me know what you're thinking in the comments below!
> 
> See you next time, I hope! And stay safe out there! Cheers~!


	17. Withdraw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt a little bad about leaving you guys hanging.
> 
> Onward~!

King couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to Chizuru Kagura at length. She received a beautiful Christmas card from her over the holiday season (though it was more than likely sent out by a personal assistant...) but, other than that, she was pretty sure their last correspondence had been on her birthday… eight months prior to that. So when an older photo of Kagura suddenly appeared on her phone's small screen a little after one in the morning, accompanied by the default ringtone on the device, she immediately answered, her curiosity piqued beyond belief.

"Hello….?" She spoke slowly, a little uncertain that _she_ was even the person Kagura meant to dial in the first place.  
"Hello, King," came the clear voice that should have been familiar, but just… wasn't. "I hope I didn't wake you. Truth be told… I didn't even think about the time difference."  
"No, I wasn't sleeping," King replied. "To what do I owe this call?"  
"Oh! Yes! Well, you and I haven't talked for some time, and I thought that, in light of current events it would be nice to catch up with you."

King narrowed her eyes, a little suspicious, as she began petting Marron. Kagura was a very busy woman; why would she suddenly want to just "catch up" out of the blue? And with a phone call instead of a text or email? King didn't know why, but she had the feeling that there was more to this than Kagura was going to let on. She pressed her lips together as she thought about what to say.

"Is this a bad time?"  
"Oh, no," King answered hastily, "I was just watching the news."  
"Then that's perfect!"  
"Why?"  
"Because it will allow us adequate time to speak with one another. That is… unless you're having _fun_ watching late night CNN?"  
"How did you know I was —"  
"Old habits die hard, Miss Levasseur. I haven't forgotten all those times you turned it on during our travels…"  
"O-oh," King mumbled, a little surprised that Kagura even remembered _any_ of her habits. She fell silent again, unsure of what to say next. It wasn't that she disliked Kagura (it was quite the opposite, really) — she just didn't know how to start a meaningful conversation with her, as they didn't have a whole lot in common. And King's general dislike of small talk didn't help, either.

"You're uncomfortable."

Kagura's statement made King blink a few times. She sat up straighter and shook her head.

"No, I just… I don't know what to talk about. It's not every day that a prestigious Shinto priestess business woman with a sacred duty to protect the world along with two dipshits who are involved in some wacky blood feud with each other calls me up. Ex-teammates or no, there's nothing I can possibly say that you might find interesting — especially since I barely leave my apartment these days."  
"I bet that's not true. You were always one of the more… fascinating people I've had the pleasure of knowing."  
"' _Fascinating_?'" King couldn't help chuckling at that.  
"Well, yes," came Kagura's response. "But not in a negative way, I assure you."  
"Good to know…"  
"Many people find you enigmatic. Your name, your past… all giant unknowns."

King frowned. At this point in her life the air of mystery that surrounded her… public persona… was more of a habit than anything else. She couldn't keep a woman's name while working for Mr. Big, nor could she even keep her _life_. She had to sweep it all under the rug to survive, and while she didn't have to do that anymore… she sort of preferred it. Of course, Chizuru Kagura had tracked her down to team up with her like it was nothing… So what the hell was she even talking about?

"What _is_ known," Kagura went on, "is that you've always been quite the fighter. Perhaps when everything gets back to normal we can meet up somewhere — be it here or out there — and you can show me some of the new techniques you've learned."

At that, King instantly perked up; she hadn't been in a good fight since before the pandemic began. Her last sparring match with Mary had ended in a stalemate, and her last "fight" at Illusion was really just her being needlessly sadistic to some guy who tried to grope Sally.

"If your match against Athena a while back was any indication, I would say you're even more formidable in the ring than you were before." Kagura went on.  
"My… my match? With Athena? You saw that?"  
"Well, yes, of course. I wanted to call and congratulate you after your win, but I was sidetracked by some business endeavors, and… Nevertheless, it was quite the skirmish."  
"Skirmish," King echoed dully.

The aforementioned bout against Athena Asamiya, while some time ago now, was definitely _not_ one of King's best moments: she whiffed more than half of her moves and then hit the girl from behind with a cheap shot before breaking her spine — all on live television. There had already been whispers about King acting erratic going into the fight, but the brutality of her win only proved those rumours true. And if Kagura had been watching… Kagura, who knew King well enough, and had a sixth sense… then there was a good chance that she would easily figure out that there was more to that win than met the eye.

"It felt like a little much, though. Did the girl say or do something that was disagreeable?"

The question brought King out of her thoughts and made it so she had to consider her answer very carefully. Obviously she didn't want to say the _real_ reason behind why she did what she did because then she would have to admit… _that_ … to yet _another_ person — which she _really_ didn't want.

"No, it was just… I got a little over-enthused," King explained. "Heat of battle… that sort of thing."  
"I see..."  
"I should go. It's already late, and I'm beginning to feel tired."  
"So soon? We haven't even scratched the surface," Kagura told her, the disappointment in her voice palpable.  
"I know," King replied. "I know. It's just… I don't… really sleep well these days so I have to take it when I can get it."

Kagura acknowledged the statement with a short hum. There was a very brief silence that finally broke with a question that King had grown to hate:

"...Are you okay? I know you said you're tired, but I feel —"  
"I'm fine," King quickly interrupted. She threw in a fake yawn (she hoped like hell it sounded convincing) and went on. "Why don't we make plans to talk later this week?"  
"I would like that!"  
"Bien. Great. Thank you for thinking of me. We'll talk again."  
"Yes," Kagura told her. "We shall. Good night, King."

Three low beeps sounded, indicating that the call was over. King let out a deep breath and placed her phone on the coffee table, her hands oddly shaky. Of all the fights Kagura could have mentioned, why did it have to be the Asamiya match?! The Asamiya match that triggered a cascade of rape trauma bullshit that King hadn't wanted to deal with then, no less now?!

"Fuck!" King growled out loud. She rose from her seat and stomped off to the kitchen so she could dose herself with Ambien and not think about it anymore.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a whole lot to unpack here, but let's take a quick look at what's happening here:
> 
> * The irony of King, a bartender, disliking small talk...  
> * On Kagura tracking King down: In the KOF '97 team story for the Women's Team, Chiz buys plane tickets for Mai, King, and Jean as well. Obviously, for her to buy a ticket under King's name, and to find out about Jean, she'd have had to have known King's name.  
> * I've already talked about the fight with Athena, but, in case you're just now joining, or you're sitting in the back, King fought Athena in Hurt (Chapter 2) and beat the shit out of her during the final seconds of the match, after Athena saw into her mind (which she did not know at the time...)  
> * Obviously Athena's healing factor helped her make a full recovery  
> * King's sleeping habits have been royally fucked by her trauma, thus she has a prescription for Ambien for when things get really bad
> 
> So where do we go from here? Who else is up to what during these strange times? 
> 
> As always, feedback and reviews are always much appreciated, so let me know what you're thinking! Where's this gonna go????
> 
> Cheers!


	18. Dream Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there! Taking a break from other projects to bring you all this quick bit that's been in the works (narratively speaking) for a good bit. I'm going to dedicate this to RobertCop3 because these two have such a nice, wholesome relationship in his fics as well as mine.
> 
> Without further ado...

If there was anything Mai Shiranui prided herself on (other than her body), it was her intuition. Obviously, she wasn't a psychic like Athena, nor was she a priestess with supernatural divination abilities like Chizuru, but she was extremely perceptive in her own right, able to read people like a book if she wanted to — especially those closest to her.

Like Yuri.

Yuri was Mai's proverbial "ride or die" — the little sister she never had. And she knew Yuri viewed her much the same: the big sister she always wanted. The two were able to talk and laugh about anything together (though some subjects were a little more… colourful than others) and balanced the other's personality in a way that was nothing short of perfect.

Which was why Mai had no qualms about addressing a potentially touchy subject with the karate girl as she sorted her clean laundry on one oddly warm afternoon:

"Yuri, are you crushing on Kingy?" She asked bluntly over FaceTime while she folded a kimono.  
"WHAT?!"

Yuri's eyes widened as the Pocky stick in her hand snapped in half, her round cheeks instantly taking on an almost disturbing shade of crimson.

"Wh-whu-why would you ask me something like that, Mai?!" she asked, her voice frenzied.  
"Well," Mai started, her tone casual, "I've been meaning to bring it up for a while, but someone was always around, or I'd just forget. But now that you're alone and I'm alone, we can _really_ talk."  
"Talk…?! Talk about what? What do you wanna talk about?!"  
"Yuri."  
"Yyyyyyyeeeaaaaaaah?"  
"Are. You. Crushing. On. King."  
"I-I'm with Robbie! How can I possibly…? And, like, I mean, she's sexy — Céccy! I meant Céccy, I swear! Why are you doing this to me?!"

Mai shook her head and laughed as she pulled a t-shirt from the laundry basket.

"You're digging a hole for yourself, girl."  
"That's… I mean! I don't even _like_ women! An… and definitely not Céccy," Yuri protested while wringing her hands.  
"Sure, Jan. I've seen the way you look at her ass."  
"It's the truth! I'm not! I don't!"  
"It's okay if you do," Mai soothed. "I mean… plenty of people like —"  
"But I _don't_ ," Yuri said. "I'm totally spoken for, and it would be weird for me to… I mean… Céccy?! Please."  
"Methinks thou doth protest too much."  
"Yeah, well, methinks you're imagining things!"

Mai snickered as she continued folding the laundry. She looked at her screen and waited for Yuri to speak once more. Finally, the younger woman cleared her throat and said, "Look. I don't think… I mean… I'm not into girls, but… I just… she's so pretty… and then I had this... _weird_ dream — _about_ … her."

The kunoichi dropped the pants she was working on so she could give more attention to Yuri, who was nervously gnawing on another Pocky stick.

"Uh-huh. What _kind_ of weird dream?"  
"That's… it was…ummm..."  
"Was it a _dirty_ dream?" Mai prodded with an impish grin.

Yuri swallowed very hard as her face somehow turned even redder. Mai looked at her carefully; she knew her mannerisms all too well, which was why she didn't bother waiting for her to answer explicitly.

"It was! You naughty girl!"  
"It's not like that," Yuri wailed. "I don't… think of her like that!"  
"Ohhhh ho ho, you keep telling yourself that, girl! Now! Spill! I wanna know all the details!"  
"Uh… _all_ the details?" Yuri was actually sweating.  
"Well, of _course_ ," Mai told her with a grin. "How long ago did you have this dream? What was the setting? Was there a story? Did she try to woo you or were _you_ trying to woo _her_? Or was it just porn without plot?"  
"I… just… I mean, she… we…"  
"Ooh, it got pretty dirty, huh?"  
"...Y-yeah," Yuri sighed while hanging her head.

There was a brief lull as Mai focused on carefully folding another kimono.

"Well, while I can't really speak to any actual feelings you may or may not be having, I _can_ say that people have sex dreams all the time," she assured her friend.  
"Yeah, but have you ever had a… sex dream about someone _other_ than Andy?"  
"Nope!"  
"Exactly," Yuri said with a groan. She placed her head in her hands and ruffled her own hair.  
"You shouldn't let it bother you," Mai stated with a shrug. "I mean, Kingy's pretty hot."  
"But she's like a sister! I can't —! That would be really messed up, but she's… so… and… aaaggghhhhhhh~!"

Mai raised her eyebrows, a little worried that Yuri was about to have a coronary. She thought for just a moment and then, asked, "Did you tell Robert about it?"  
"Definitely, definitely _not_! Do you know what he'd do?!"  
"Oh, come on! He'd probably think it was hot."  
"Maybe he would if it wasn't _Céccy_!"

The kunoichi looked up toward the ceiling, thoughtful. That was a good point.

"You _know_ there's no way Céccy can ever, _ever_ find out about this, right? She'd _kill_ me!"  
"Oh, please. She wouldn't kill you! She'd probably just laugh."  
"You think so?"  
"I know so," Mai necessitated. "You should know that by now, too. She'd take it in stride."  
"I guess…"  
"When's the last time you talked to her, anyway?"  
"Yesterday. Just a quickie text — not a big deal."  
"Ahh," Mai responded.  
"Also, if… for some reason I did tell her," Yuri began, "I'd wait until she was really drunk or really stoned. It would soften the blow."  
"Why would the blow need to be softened? Yuri, how x-rated did it get?!"

Mai looked at Yuri expectantly. This must have been one hell of a dream.

"There was a lot going on," Yuri muttered.  
"Yeah, I bet!"  
"Darn it, Mai!"  
"Hey, look! It's okay if you… you know. If you think you want to explore, maybe you and Robert can go down to Vegas — when this is all over, of course — and maybe get yourself a classy girl to experiment with. Together."  
"You mean like a threesome?!"  
"Well, yeah. Why not?"  
"Maaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii~!"  
"Would you rather it be someone you actually know? I guess that would make you feel more comfortable, huh?"  
"I don't wanna have a threesome."  
"Then maybe you can ask Robert if he'd let _you_ experiment a little on your own? Let him watch."  
"Dude!"  
"What?"  
"You know I can't…! I wouldn't even know what to do to begin with. I'd probably just freeze."  
"Whatever, you're a fast learner."

Yuri nervously chewed on yet another thin stick, her eyes on something offscreen. The pigment in her cheeks was starting to calm down, but not by much.

"It sucks! Every time I look at her I think of all kinds of… stuff now. I don't wanna _think_ about… all kinds of stuff! And definitely not stuff like that… about her! It was bad enough _before_...! That is… not that there's a 'before' to even talk about, but —"  
"You're making too big a deal out of this," Mai stated pointedly.  
"I can't help it," Yuri replied. "It was really vivid! Like, _really_ vivid."  
"Well, try not to read into it so much. You've been away from Robert for a while so of course your mind is bound to go to some interesting places. And you've been curious about certain acts that a certain bartender we know has probably definitely performed, so it's only natural that your subconscious mind went all enn-es-eff-double-you with her! It's really not a big deal."  
"Easy for _you_ to say," Yuri grumbled.  
"Have I ever steered you wrong?" Mai prodded.  
"Well… no."  
"Okay then! So, as your best friend slash big sister slash unlicensed sex therapist —"  
"My what?!"  
" — I am telling you not to sweat this! You and Kingy have a colourful history together and _everyone_ digs a girl in a suit."  
"I… guess," Yuri faltered. "Can we talk about something else now?"

Mai threw her head back and laughed while tossing a pair of lacy panties into a growing pile of undergarments.

"We can," she said, "but you have to answer two questions for me, first."  
"Okay… what are they?"  
"Are you falling for her?"  
"Nope! Definitely not," Yuri exclaimed resolutely.  
"Cool. See? That's good!"  
"Yeah… So… What's the other question?"

Mai stifled a giggle; Yuri was probably going to try to wring her neck through the screen, but she couldn't help herself — she needed to know. She cleared her throat, and then:

"Did Dream Kingy show you how scissoring works?"

The expression on Yuri's face told Mai everything she needed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much going on here at all! If you've been going here a while then you know that scissoring has been something of a running joke/Thing that King just cannot escape, as both Yuri and Jean have asked her about it. You probably also know that Yuri is totally bi-curious in this ficverse.
> 
> Welp, that's all then! Thank you for reading and/or reviewing if you so choose! Stay safe out there!


End file.
